Good Intentions?
by Mizz Moneypenny
Summary: Sequel to 'Things That Go Bump In The Night'. Vince's master plan to destroy D Generation X is about to get underway! As the story comes to an end, are Shawn and Triple H found and do they get out of the woods ok? Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1: Laughter amongst schemes!

Hey and welcome once again to the wonderful world of D Generation X vs the McMahon's! This is another spin off from 'Honey, We Are Marooned!' and 'Things That Go Bump In The Night!'.

As you might guess, I still don't own any wrestlers...maybe one day!

The story starts the night after SummerSlam.

Enjoy!

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Strolling through the semi deserted corridors of Raw, Shawn Michaels and Triple H whistled euphorically to themselves, casually swinging their arms in time to their music. Last night at SummerSlam, they managed to defeat the menacing McMahon's, ending a rivalry that had been happening for the best part of a year.

Or so they thought.

Upon their arrival at the arena earlier in the day, they had been sent a message to visit Mr. McMahon's office as soon as possible. Of course, in true DX fashion, they left it until as late as possible, waiting until the last person had left the arena for the evening before answering McMahon's request.

Knocking carelessly on the door, the two men were granted permission to enter. After a few moments they did so, complete with 'Vince loves...' and a picture of a cock(erel) t-shirts.

"Argh DX, it's about time!" Vince spoke, turning off his computer monitor, staring at the two men in his office.

"So you did want to see us!" the Heartbreak Kid gasped mockingly.

"Yes I did indeed!" Vince smiled, his facial expressions not meaning anything.

"What's he doing in here?" the King of Kings questioned, pointing at Jonathan Coachman, banging the door shut.

"Mr Coachman is indeed my assistant, and I do require his services!" Vince replied candidly.

"Yeah, in the bedroom!" Hunter muttered to a chuckling HBK.

"SHUT UP!" Vince bellowed, watching the two men stiffen comically under his glare.

"So...what do you want?" Hunter quizzed.

"Well, it's like this you see." Vince began, watching his employees faces slump.

The two men could tell that Vince would babble for quite some time yet, like he often did on Monday Night Raw. Yep, a 20 plus minute promo could seem like an eternity.

"Last night a SummerSlam, I came to a conclusion..."

"That you should just leave the company to DX's rule!" Shawn mockingly asked.

"No, dammit! Anyway, where was I Coachman?"

"You were saying about SummerSlam." the Coach reminded, pushing his swanky sun glasses further up his nose.

"Thank you! I realised that this crap between us can't go on for any longer. It's just getting out of all proportions and, quite frankly, it's making myself and the product of my semen, my son Shane look like idiots!"

"You don't need _us_ to make you look like idiots!" Shawn joked.

"SILENCE! Anyway, we have decided that it's about time for this all to end..."

"What, just like that?" Hunter inquired, clicking his fingers.

"Exactly." Vince nodded, attempting to click his fingers but with no success. "Just like that!"

"C'mon Vinney Mac, do give us _some_ credit!" Shawn rolled his blue eyes.

"Do you _really_ expect us to believe that you and Shane are gonna call it quits now?" Triple H chimed in.

"We will do...but there's a catch."

"How did we guess!" Shawn mumbled, tapping his best friend on the arm, Triple H placing his hands on his hips in an expectant fashion.

"The catch is, we will call it quits if and _only_ if, you go on a camping trip."

Hunter and Shawn looked at each other, their cheeks buldging, turning red. Suddenly, they burst into laughing, rolling on the floor with tears streaming down their faces.

Shaking their heads in a bemused fashion, Vince and the Coach waited for the two to regain their composure before continuing.

"What, that's the only catch!" Hunter giggled, helping HBK up from the floor.

"Not quite."

"Ok then..." Shawn wiped the remaining tears away from his dampened eyes.

"The only_ other_ catch is that it won't just be the two of you going camping."

"Let me guess; you and Shane are coming with us, right?" Hunter chimed in, gesturing towards Shawn.

"No actually, we won't be doing that. But, there will be people there that you don't like, that's for sure!" Vince grinned evilly. "So, do we have a deal, fella's?"

"Hold on a sec!" Hunter spoke up. "You mean, we just have to go camping with a bunch of bastards and that will be it between the lot of us?"

"Yes." Vince honestly answered, curling his manicured fingers together.

"Do we get to know who's coming with us?" Shawn questioned, wrapping his muscular arm around Triple H's neck.

"Not until tomorrow morning." Vince responded. "However, I will tell you one person who will be going with you..."

"Ok, who's that jackass then?" Hunter smirked.

Surveying the room, Vince beckoned for the two Degenerates to come closer to him. Whispering, he replied - "Jonathan Coachman!"

Spitting the coffee from his mouth, the Coach's eyes were as wide as saucers! Wiping the remaining spit from his delicate mouth, he watched in disgust as Triple H and Shawn Michaels once again stumbled to the floor, nearly wetting themselves with laughter.

"WHAT!" Coach shirked, watching Vince wink at him; a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"You mean...The Coach will be with us?" Shawn attempted to clarify, still in a heap on the floor.

"Yes...he will be indeed." Vince replied, watching the double act still fall about in laughter.

After a few minutes, they managed to return to a standing position as Vince addressed them once again.

"I'll see you both in the morning, eight o'clock sharp!" Vince warned.

"Yeah." DX shrugged casually, making their way out of the office.

Hurrying over to the door, the Coach checked the corridors to make sure there was no one there. Shutting the door quietly, he hastily questioned his boss once again.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he questioned, a hurt tone set across his voice.

"Because, Jonathan, you will play a very important roll in the whole of this!"

"I will?" he yelped, more in shock than amazement; Vince was always getting him into sticky situations. Yet, the pay was good so he continued with it. Plus, he got a sick sense of satifaction from the suffering of others; especially Shawn Michaels and Triple H, D Generation X.

"Yes, indeed you will. You will be at the fore front of my plot to split up D Generation X!" Vince yelled sadistically.

But will Vince's sinful scheme work?

- - - - - - - - - -

Next time in 'How to Camp!'...

Who is set to be camping with DX? Will Vince's plan get off to a good start?

Check back for more, soon!

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Hey, sorry for the short chapter but it was just an introduction!

Please review, I'd love to hear your comments!


	2. Chapter 2: The great debacle!

At the butt crack of morning, Shawn Michaels and Triple H drove down to the arena that they were wrestling in last night, to meet with their fellow not so happy campers. Despite Hunter's pleas, Shawn decided that they _should_ make an effort to get there early, before the time of 8am at Mr McMahon's request. "I didn't like his tone of voice." HBK repeated, pulling into the first available car parking space.

Grabbing their bags of luggage from the boot, the two men strolled over to the beaten up bus that Vince was stood near.

"By God, you were on time!" Vince gasped, taking a look at his million dollar watch, studded with several diamonds, made from pure gold.

"Yeah, only coz of Shawn!" Triple H rolled his eyes lightly.

"Never mind," Vince continued, ignoring the King of Kings last statement. "Come on, let me introduce you to some of the people you will be camping with for the next few days."

"Ummm, Vince?" Hunter began to question.

"We already know these people. We work with them on a weekly basis." Shawn added, questioning Vince's judgement.

"Maybe you do. However, this trip is all about new beginnings!" Vince stated, power walking his way over to some of the miserable campers, Shawn and Triple H following him in an almost defeated manner.

"Shawn, Triple H, I would like to introduce you to some of your fellow employees; meet Mick Foley and Ric Flair!"

"Why Flair and Foley? What's so annoying about them?" Shawn inquired.

"Haven't you heard their promos over the past few weeks? Geez, talk about blah, blah, blah!" Hunter mocked, Shawn cracking a smile in return.

"YOU, FOLEY, ARE _STILL_ A GLORIFIED STUNT MAN!" Ric yelled, sweat pouring through his shirt as his face turned redder than a pimple on prom night!

Ushering D Generation X away, Vince mused to himself. 'Man, I _did_ pick some annoying sons of bitches! That should make them crack!'

Taking them to meet more of his employees, DX mimicked Vince's power walk, much to the pleasure of the next few campers.

"Say hello to Hulk Hogan, Randy Orton and Carrrrrrrliiiiiiiiiiooooo!" Vince rolled his tongue, putting on a bad Caribbean accent.

"Dat...dat was a no cool impression!" he sneered, pulling his fingers through his curly afro.

"Explain to us these three..." Hunter implored his boss.

"Well Carlito's apple fetish gets a little monotonous, Randy Orton's self obsession and liking of Triple H will get on your nerves." Vince's voice turned to a whisper "Plus as a part of his anger management, this should be funny! And Hogan, well..."

"WHATCHA' GONNA DO BROTHER WHEN THE HULKSTER WON'T SHARE A TENT WITH YOU!" he shouted, posing as if he was still twenty years old.

"Be very thankful!" Shawn scorned.

"Oh and by the way, this whole trip will be on film for the next series of 'Hogan Knows Best'..." Vince told, thinking of the money he could earn from appearing in a few episodes.

"After the Hulkster loses to the Legend Killer on this little camping trip, the show shall be renamed 'Orton Knows Best'!" Randy praised his ego, lifting his arms above his head.

"That's great!" Shawn muttered sarcastically, Hunter dragging him away from the bus.

"Dammit, where is he!" Vince spied his watch again, more agitated than before.

"Who are we waiting for?" Shawn asked.

"Never you mind! He's got to be here!" Vince said, his anger turning to a creepy smile once his partner in crime came over to him. "Ah, Coachman, any sign of you know who yet?"

"Nope, not yet Sir, I'll go and have another walk around." the Coach nodded, hearing sniggers from both members of D Generation X. "And what's so funny?" his voice turned squeaky, spinning around and removing his sun glasses.

"Nice shorts!" Shawn giggled, both him and Hunter inspecting the tight, maroon coloured attire.

"Yeah, my Grandma used to have a pair just like them!" the King of Kings wise cracked, seeing Coachman getting _really_ angered.

As the Coach walked away, less than amused, a familiar voice came from behind them.

"Hi guys, you ok?"

"Kurt! Oh, thank God!" Shawn gasped, grabbing the Olympic Gold Medallist for a tight hug.

"Ummm, Shawn, I know we are good friends and everything but I never thought you'd be _that_ glad to see me!" he semi laughed.

"Are you coming with us on this camping debacle?" Hunter quizzed.

"Yep, unfortunately looking at the other turd's around here!" Kurt replied, Shawn releasing him from his grip.

"Finally, someone sane!" Shawn spoke.

After a few moments of standing around, the Coach returned.

"He's here, Mr McMahon, he's here!" he exclaimed, dashing back over to the sparkling black limo that had just arrived.

"YES! YES!" Vince cried, urging everyone to gather around for the entrant.

"Wonder who this jackass is?" Hunter questioned.

"Mr Fuji?" Shawn hoped.

"Nah, too sane!"

"The Ultimate Warrior?" Kurt asked.

"Nah, too _insane_!" Hunter chuckled.

"Men, men!" Vince called "I'd like you to meet your very special guest on this trip..."

"But Vince, Vince, I've already arrived!" Randy shouted, everyone else turning around to sneer at the third generation superstar.

"Not you...him!" Vince gestured, the chauffeur getting out from the driving side of the car to open the door for the next camper.

As the big ape got out from the car, nearly ripping his quad as he did so, everyone grumbled. "MARK HENRY?"

"Well, I told you he would be a jackass!" Hunter joked.

"Mark Henry will be the law enforcer on this little trip." Vince warned, spying Shawn and Hunter. "For any body or any parties who think they can get out of line with authority."

"_My_ authority!" The Coach piped up smarmily.

"He looks like he could barely enforce a piss up in a brewery!" Carlito wise cracked.

"Don't worry, he'll get injured getting _on_ the bus!" Randy mumbled.

"Right, come on dammit, you're already ten minutes late!" Vince cried "Everyone get on the bus!"

"Which bus?" Kurt questioned.

"That bus!" Vince pointed.

All of the campers gawped in shock at the 'bus' in which Vince was referring to. The rusty, flat tired 1960's automobile looked like it was on it's last legs and couldn't get out of the car park safely, let alone drive up several steep hills!

"But Sir!" the Coach chimed in "That thing...we can't drive in that!"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, look Sir, it's about had it!" Jonathan tried to reason, only gently kicking one of the wheels hub caps as it snapped in two, tumbling from the wheel completely.

"Nonsense! Besides, if it does happen to break down, it's a good chance for you all to use some of your team work to get it fixed, isn't it?" Vince rhetorically asked, the several men shaking their heads in disgust. "Come on, get loading your luggage!" Vince insisted, not doing anything to help of course.

"Who's driving this shit heap?" Hunter questioned after loading all of his bags into the 'vehicle'.

"The Coach!" Vince told, watching his assistant's face drop.

"Good luck with that!" the Cerebral Assassin insincerely smiled, tapping Jonathan on the shoulder and following Shawn and Kurt onto the bus.

But would they even be able to leave the car park?

Next time in 'Good Intentions?'...

Does everybody make it onto the bus? Is there upset in the ranks already, before they've even set off?

Check back for more, soon!

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Hey, just to say thanks to everyone who has already read and reviewed the first chapter. It's great to see people reading it who enjoyed the previous two stories and to the guys who have only just joined us! Thank you!


	3. Chapter 3: They're stuck!

Stepping onto the bus, Shawn Michaels, Triple H and Kurt Angle looked at each other. None of them could believe how much of a dump the bus was; the seats that _did_ have material covering the cold metal was torn and dirty. The floor was covered in litter, some looking like it had come from the 60's with the bus!

"Where shall we sit?" Shawn asked, searching for a less cluttered area of the bus.

"How about the back seats, then all three of us can sit together?" Kurt shrugged, the three buddy's treading over old cans of coke and sweet wrappers as they made their way to the end of the bus.

Much to their annoyance, all five back seats had already been occupied...by a sleeping Hulk Hogan!

"What the fuck?" Hunter muttered "He's only just gotten on the bus! How can he be asleep already?"

"You know what they say?" Carlito joined in, peering over the seat a couple of rows in front "The older you get, the easier it is to get tired!"

"He's more than old!" Orton chimed in "He's decrepit!"

"Who are you calling decrepit BROTHER!" Hulk Hogan awoke from his slumber.

"I think I liked him better when he was passed out!" Shawn commented, his personal feelings to the 'Immortal' one known world over.

"Has anyone got any Nightol?" Kurt called out rhetorically, bringing cheeky grins to everyone's faces.

"Anyway, Hulk get up, we wanna sit there!" Hunter demanded, gesturing the multi time World Champion to find another seat.

"WHATCHA GONNA DO, BROTHER, WHEN THE HULKSTER WON'T GET UP FOR YOU!" Hogan yelled, laying firmly across the seats.

"Ummm, this?" Shawn nodded to Kurt and Hunter.

The three men grabbed Hogan and threw him aggressively onto another seat!

"Dat...dat was cool!" Carlito smirked.

"OWWW MY HIP, BROTHER!" Hogan complained.

"Shut up you old BASTARD!" Ric shouted at the top of his voice, fumbling over the top seat to slap the Hucksters chest.

"Why don't you idiots both shut up!" Foley ordered, hugging his pay check from VH1 for the 'Hogan Knows Best' Series, guarding it with his life as if it was a small, new born baby.

"FUCK YOU FOLEY!" Ric raged, sweat tricking from every part of his body.

"Hey, how come that fat, wrestler wannabe got paid before me, the Legend Killer?" Randy questioned.

"Yeah, how come he got paid more than me, cool personified? Dat...dat's no cool!"

As the insane arguing continued, Vince could hear the commotion from outside. Power walking his way onto the bus, he was less than impressed of his employees...'At _least_ one of them should be ripped open by now!' he sneered to himself.

"BY GOD SHUT UP!" he bellowed, the bus coming to a stand still. "Now, is everyone here yet!"

"Not everyone, the Mark isn't here." Hunter sarcastically spoke, cracking an insider joke.

"Oh yes, c'mon Mark, we need to go!" Vince called, rubbing his hands evilly together.

As all of the campers on the bus stared out of the window, awaiting the arrival of Mark Henry, they couldn't all believe that he would be staying with them!

"I'd hate to have to share a tent with him!" the young Orton chuckled.

All of a sudden, Mark tried to walk in the door...tried being the key word!

"Ummm, Sir?" Coachman peered through the opposite window in an anxious manner. "He's stuck!"

"What d'ya mean he's stuck dammit?" Vince's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"He's just...stuck!" Coach told uneasily.

"Mark, just get on the bus dammit!" Vince demanded, trying not to lose his cool too easily.

"I'm sorry Sir, I can't!"

"Coach, you push and I pull!" Vince ordered, tearing his jacket from his body.

"This should be good!" Kurt whispered to Shawn and Hunter, who were now more engrossed in their boss then they ever had been before.

After a few moments of trying, frustration was beginning to build..."Get - on - you - fat - bastard!" Vince urged angrily.

Stopping to catch a breath, both the Coach and Vince couldn't believe that their master plan might be foiled already. Panting heavily, Vince felt his blood boil deep inside of him.

"DAMMIT!" Vince cried, kicking Mark in the nuts.

"I'm so sorry." Henry sobbed, partly through pain and partly through anger with himself.

"This is all I need!" Vince mumbled, rubbing his chin for inspiration.

"Why don't we just get a bigger bus?" the Coach inquired.

"Coz dammit this was the cheapest one I could get!" Vince told aggressively.

- - - - - - - - - -

An hour and 15 bars of soap, 20 buckets of water, 17 bottles of baby oil and 14 pounds of lard later (note: that is NOT Mark Henry, just the butter!), Mark was removed from the bus door, a little worse for wear but at least he was free...for now!

"You've...you've ruined everything!" Vince stuttered, his lips curled and his eyes blazing. "And you're not going to get away with this...oh no, you're gonna pay for this!"

As Mr. McMahon's insane ramble continued, the rest of the bus erupted with laughter...

For the time being at least.

"What are you going to do now, sir?" The Coach questioned hastily, wiping the sweat from his defined, dark brow.

"Never you mind!" Vince whispered to him "Just get these...these, morons and degenerates out of my hair!" he sternly spoke, watching the bus leave the ground at about 10 miles an hour.

- - - - - - - - - -

As the bus drove away from the current sight, all of the campers were becoming restless and weary as the hours past. It was now over five hours since leaving the car park with no breaks of any sorts.

"Coach!" Randy called with all of his might from one of the back seats, Jonathan being unaware as the engine was being so loud.

"What's up, Randall?" his former mentor, Ric Flair questioned. Despite the men not being too close now a days, the sixteen time World Champion still had a soft spot for the younger man. It was as if he was his own child and he'd raised him. That was a bond you could never break.

"I'm hot!" the moaned, undoing his shirt by a few more buttons.

"Open the windows then!" Triple H replied dozily, himself feeling a little worse for wear as he was jogged up and down by the rickety road on the ill managed bus.

Standing to do as the Game had suggested, Randy was supported by the well managed hands of Carlito, who he had become rather good friends with over his and DX's past, ummm, misadventures.

"They...won't...go!" he grimaced, feeling the sweat droplets tumble from his smooth forehead. The sun was beating in the un-curtained windows, no shelter from the summer month of August.

"C'mon, a big strong boy like you should get them opened with no trouble!" the Hardcore Legend shouted in encouragement.

"Here, let me try!" Carlito interjected, heaving at the metal bars as he pushed his remaining energy to the limits. However, he had no such luck either.

Squinting at the panes of glass, Shawn made a discovery. "You dummies, they are painted shut!" he exclaimed "That's why you can't get them undone!"

Groaning in disbelief, both the Legend Killer and serial apple eater slumped back into their seats in despair.

"I'm...melting!" Carlito puffed.

"Dat wouldn't be cool, right?" Triple H mimicked, much to the annoyance of the impersonated one.

"I'm not gonna sit here like this for much longer!" Kurt piped up in exasperation.

"Wait, I have an idea!" Hunter began, as if a light bulb went off over his head. "We could just break the glass!"

"Isn't that vandalism?" the Heartbreak Kid interjected, lifting his tired head up only slightly.

"Oh, stop being a wet blanket!" Hunter urged, not in a malicious way, just in a joke. "Come on!"

But how will the Coach react?

- - - - - - - - - -

Next time in 'Good Intentions?'...

Will the glass be broken? Plus, will there be anymore misadventures before arriving at camp?

Check back for more, soon!


	4. Chapter 4: Singing and glass breaking!

"Are you sure about this?" Kurt stood from his seat, clutching onto the rusty railings for support. The bus ride was so jerky, he felt as if he was to fall over unless he was careful.

"What do you suggest we do, sit in here to melt?" Hunter questioned nonchalantly.

"We have to do something!" Randy agreed, his cheeks turning redder and redder.

"Yeah, unless we want our faces to turn to rubber like Hogan's!" Flair chimed up.

"Some would say it's already happened to you!" Foley murmured bitterly under his breath.

"It's still vandalism!" Shawn interfered again, his eyes locking with Kurt's who was possibly the only person listening to him.

However, Triple H, Randy, Carlito and Ric weren't paying attention by this point; grabbing any objects available to them, they began to hurl them at the windows, hastily.

Grabbing some of Carlito's apples from his bag, Hunter was about to hurl it from the window. Gasping dramatically, Carlito snatched the Granny Smith from his hand, petting it lovingly. "Don't worry, I'll never let anything happen to you!" he whispered, pecking it gently on the, ummm, cheek?

Obviously annoyed by Carlito's weapon stealing and his supposed partner in crimes lack of enthusiasm and participation, the Game spied the bus for more methods of breaking the glass.

"What about that fire extinguisher?" the Nature Boy suggested, pointing to the peeling red can situated near a singing Coach.

"What happens if we need it?" Kurt cautioned wisely.

"Are you kidding me? That thing must be unusable now!" Randy chuckled, referring to the sheer age of the entire 'vehicle'.

"I think spit would be more effective." Carlito nodded in agreement.

"Just get the extinguisher and stop complaining!" Hogan mumbled, awoken from his slumber, a little pissed off at all of the noise going on around him.

"Who's getting it then?" Randy questioned, the four men participating in the window wrecking spying each other up and down awkwardly.

All fingers pointed to Carlito. "Why me?" he cried, his eyes popping slightly.

"Well, you're the youngest!" Flair reasoned, acting in an ageists manner.

"If it comes to that, you're the oldest!" Foley sniped, his eyes narrow as he glared at Flair.

"I'm not - Hogan is!" Ric gasped in an attempt to protect his own ego.

"I'll go!" Hunter exhaled deeply, in annoyance. "I _did_ want it doing today!"

Fumbling over cans, packaging and various other articles on the floor, the King of Kings smirked to himself. Despite the loud roars of the buses engine, it was plain to hear Jonathan Coachman singing Elton John's 'Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me' - badly, I should add!

As Vince's special assistant broke into another chorus, Triple H had plans of breaking something else! Undoing the faded leather straps that were only holding the can on the wall by a thread, Hunter dashed as quickly as he could back to the end of the bus.

"Be careful!" Shawn guided, shooting his best friend an uneasy look. "Make sure glass doesn't spray everywhere!"

"Will you relax, Shawn!" Hunter urged, a little concerned about how over protected Shawn was in the days situation.

Heaving the metal into the glass, the Coach nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the commotion! "What the..." he muttered, having to twist his neck right round as the bus didn't even come complete with a in door mirror!

Abruptly, the bus came to a halt. Everyone fell back into their seats - all except for Hunter who fell in the laps of Shawn and Kurt!

"What the hell is going on?" the Coach stormed from his seat, his eyes as wild as Rasputin's as he tapped his foot on the flooring in disgrace, crossing his arms over as he waited for an explanation. "I'm waiting!"

"We got hot," Hunter began casually "The windows are painted shut so we had no choice but to bust them open!" he shrugged, Carlito, Randy and Ric agreeing with him.

"How dare you! This bus...this bus cost Vince a lot of money!" the Coach stuttered.

"Owww, my heart bleeds!" Hunter mimicked, bringing a cheeky smile to everyone's faces.

"This is not a joke!" the Coach bellowed, his voice rugged and anxious. "Y-you need to fix that before we go back home. Or else..."

"Or else what?" Hunter stood face to face with the Coach, watching him cower away.

"Or else...Mr. McMahon will fire you!" Jonathan warned unconvincingly, the entire bus snickering.

"He can't do that! I'm his Son-in-Law." Triple H confidently replied, raising an eyebrow in assurance. "Steph would _never_ allow it!"

"Plus, he is the Game!" the Showstoppa' backed his best mate up.

"And a ten time World Champ." the Olympic Gold Medallist joined in easily.

Knowing fore well that on this occasion he had been defeated, Jonathan Coachman strode back to his seat in disappointment, greeted by many rude gestures from fellow highway travellers as he had just stopped the bus in the middle of the road!

"What a jackass!" Hunter scoffed cockily, as the bus continued to travel for another three painful hours.

- - - - - - - - - -

Eventually, the bus came to a standstill at a near by service station.

"I'll be back in a minute!" the Coach announced, stepping off the bus.

"Going for a shit are we?" Orton yelled immaturely from the now smashed window as mother's covered their offspring's ears and the rest of the bus tittered amongst themselves.

"How about we play a little game with the Coach?" Hunter evilly suggested, rubbing his hands together in glee.

"What do you have in mind?" Foley came closer to the rest of the group.

"How about a few of us get off the bus and play a quick game of hide and seek?" the Cerebral Assassin hinted.

"That's just mean..." Shawn spoke, trying to bring calmness to the proceedings.

"Don't be such a spoil sport!" the Legend Killer insisted jokingly.

"Yeah, what's up with you today?" Hunter semi laughed, turning to face the Heartbreak Kid.

"I dunno, I just don't think that would be that funny that's all." Shawn shrugged, not wanting to get Hunter in a bad mood.

As much as he liked Hunter, he knew that not if everyone conformed to his plans or way of thinking that he could become quite agitated with the whole thing and turn against you for a while...just to prove a point that his plans were superior to everyone else's.

"How about we just dump Hogan here...no one will care!" Orton smirked sinfully.

"IT WOULDN'T BE LIKE THAT, BROTHER, COZ MILLIONS OF THE HULKAMANIACS WOULD TAKE ME IN, BROTHER, AND LOOK AFTER ME, BROTHER, COZ I CAN'T DO THAT MYSELF ANYMORE...BROTHER!" Hogan stood up, 'correcting' the youngest World Heavyweight Champion in history, whilst posing in his same tedious fashion as he had done for years.

"Anyway, come on, we need to go before he gets back!" Hunter grabbed Randy by the wrist, the two men hastily clambering from the bus.

As the rest of the boys giggled at the thought of Hunter and Randy tricking the Coach like that, Kurt questioned the plan. "What happens if he just drives on without them?" he asked logically, concerned to a degree.

"Nah, the Coach won't do that!" Carlito disagreed "Vince would fire _him_ then!"

Strolling his way back up the uneven, cracked stairs, Coach fiddled with his pants to make sure his flyers were indeed done up. Glancing down the back of the bus, he was a little peeved at what he discovered...

"Whe...where's Randy and Triple H?" he wheezed, feeling a little light headed.

"We dunno, they just...left." Carlito blinked innocently and sweetly, shrugging his shoulders.

"They...left the bus?" he tripped over his words - and rubbish - , peering from the windows as best he could in gaps from the filth.

"Yes." Mick confirmed.

"Shit!" Jonathan uttered under his breath, hurrying back down the unstable steps.

But would Vince's special assistant be too special for long?

- - - - - - - - - -

Next time in 'Good Intentions?'...

Will the Coach find Randy and Hunter? Will he be a little worse for wear whilst playing hide and go seek?

Check back for more, soon!


	5. Chapter 5: This is gonna be a long trip!

Laughing manically to themselves, both Triple H and Randy Orton had found a suitable place to hide from the Coach; a group of trees situated around the back of the service station.

Sniffing the air in disgust, Randy wrinkled his nose. "Ewww!" he whined, clenching his nose so that the fowl odour didn't enter his nostrils too frequently.

"Man, that stinks!" Hunter agreed, equally appalled.

Through out the air was the unpleasant odour of greasy, fat dripping, sweating burgers and equally undesirable chips from the near by Big Burger from inside the service station. As both men held their breaths, they glanced from time to time in case Jonathan Coachman was approaching.

- - - - - - - - - -

Meanwhile, back on the bus, the others were enjoying the idea of the Coach getting sacked.

"I'D NEVER GET SACKED, BROTHERS, COZ I'M SUCH A BIG DRAW TO THE COMPANY, BROTHERS, VINCE CAN'T AFFORD TO LOSE ME...BROTHER!" Hogan yelled, his voice oppressing everyone else present.

"It almost makes me wish that Mark Henry was here." Shawn began, turning to all the sane parties remaining on the bus...Carlito and Kurt.

"Yeah, he could have planted his fat ass on that old windbag Hogan!" Carlito imagined gleefully. "Dat...dat would be cool!"

As Carlito, Shawn and Kurt fantasised about freedom of morons, the Coach was becoming more than a little flustered over his entire situation. Delving his hands deep into his, ummm, tropical shorts, he scanned the area in great detail, hoping that he'd find the Legend Killer and the King of Kings sooner rather than later.

"Vince would kill me!" he muttered nervously to himself, trying to approach someone who would be able to help him in his hour of need.

Spying a young woman, his male instincts began to take over at such a time. In his estimation, she was beyond gorgeous; her blonde, sleek straight hair draped affectionately over her well toned shoulders and arms. Her shimmering, topaz like blue eyes glittering in the overbearing heat, complimenting her bold, pink lips perfectly. Her well defined cheeks puffed up, her lips smiling upon seeing him.

Wearing nothing more than a dirty denim mini skirt, she pulling her strappy top lower, setting off her chest area to a tee as the Coach gawped at her in lust. Pouting to him, her playful eyes beamed at him, a sign in his mind to go over to her, to make himself known.

Popping a breath mint in his mouth, he ran a hand over his bald head, strutting over as if he was the biggest pimp on the planet.

As he gazed became more and more direct, Jonathan waltzed his way into the middle of the road.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a car sped passed him, running over his foot! Tumbling to the floor, the Coach grabbed his foot in agony, hoping that he'd be ok. Yet, he didn't really care about that too much; he was much more concerned about the image in front of him.

The girl than he had been admiring for all of two minutes was snickering at him, of all things, her arms laced about a seven foot, tanned skinned, dark haired, aggressive looking body builder!

Blowing him a kiss sarcastically, the girl skipped off with the man grinning evilly to herself.

"FUCK!" the Coach mumbled in exasperation, only just regaining his composure. Now, he had bigger issues to contend with; Triple H and Randy Orton!

- - - - - - - - - - -

As he staggered to his feet, the men in the bus were contemplating whether to help him or not...

"I won't do it!" Foley spoke up "I'm not getting paid to do it!"

"THE HULKSTER WON'T DO IT, BROTHERS, COZ IT'S TOO MUCH EFFORT, BROTHERS, AND I'M A LAZY OLD BASTARD, BROTHERS, WHO WORKS FOR NOTHING BUT COLD HARD CASH...BROTHER!"

"God, this is pathetic!" Ric Flair rolled his eyes, the Heartbreak Kid, Olympic Gold Medallist and the personification of cool nodding in settlement.

- - - - - - - - - - -

The Coach was venturing in side the service station now. He came to the conclusion that it would be the most logical place for them to hide...after all, there would be far more people IN the service station than outside, right?

Strolling in every shop, he still couldn't see them. No matter which ones he went in, he just couldn't find them at all.

Un-sticking his shirt from his dripping wet body, he came across two young boys, obviously not much older than seven or eight, wearing WWE t-shirts; one, an over sized 'D Generation X...SUCK IT!" addition, the other a 'Beware of Darkness' Kane t-shirt.

Smiling to himself, the Coach really did believe this to be a sign, or at least a good hint, that the two men in question were not to far away. Smirking cockily to himself, he arrogantly strolled over to the two youngsters.

"Excuse me, _boys_, have you seen Triple H and Randy Orton anywhere?" he asked, his adult ego taking over, making a huge impressions on the children who were not easily swayed by his personality.

"I hate you!" One of them yelled, stamping on his already injured foot!

As the boys walked away, the Coach hopped about in agony, much to the pleasure of everyone near by! Feeling more than humiliated, the Coach was hoping to find a sanction - and Triple H and Randy - in the close gents toilets.

Making his way into the grotty bathroom, he sneered ungratefully to himself; ever since he had been Mr McMahon's assistant, he had never had to use such public amenities!

Hoping to find an empty urinal, he peered underneath the doors, you couldn't tell whether they were occupied or not because of them not having locks on them.

Sticking his head foolishly under the third cubicle, he was about to get the shock of his life...another muscular man!

"What the hell do you think you were doing?" he snarled, dragging the Coach by the collar of his holiday-esque shirt, backing him tightly against the wall.

"I was...I..." he stammered, knowing that he wouldn't get away so easily.

"I've read about your type in the papers and I don't like it one bit!" he grimaced, tightening his grip. "I don't like it ONE BIT!" he growled, like a Policeman's Alsatian.

"I'm...I'm sorry!" the Coach replied apologetically, holding his hands in front of him for any means of defence.

"If I ever, and I mean EVER, see you again, I swear you'll live to regret it." he threatened viciously. "You understand?"

"Loud and clear!" the Coach replied softly, gasping for air after being released from the mans clutches.

After the man walked away, the Coach wrapped his hand around his throat, rubbing the red skin sympathetically. 'I'm getting out of here!' he told himself, knowing fore well that he wouldn't be able to find Hunter and Randy.

Musing to himself, he wondered just what he could say to Vince. 'How can I tell my Boss that I've just lost two of his employees?' he questioned his continence, exhaling heavily as he trudged back onto the bus.

He was about to get the shock of his life...

"Hunter? Randy?" he quizzed in utter shock, his jaw dropping to the floor.

Both men were back on the, well, bus. Randy was perched on the seat nearest Carlito, whilst Hunter had his feet up on the seats in front of him, his left arm supporting his head as he guzzled an ice cold can of Diet Coke in the right hand.

"You took your time, didn't you?" Hunter scoffed sinfully, raising an eyebrow, tittering with the other men.

"We got a little bored of waiting!" Randy added.

The less than amused Coach retook his seat at the front of the bus. 'This is gonna be a long journey!' he thought hopelessly to himself.

But will the bus actually make it to the campsite?

- - - - - - - - - -

Next time in 'Good Intentions?'...

As the journey comes to an end _to_ the campsite, what will be in store for the men?

Check back for more, soon!

- - - - - - - - - -

Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing this - it's a good thing to know that I'm also not the _only_ Hulk Hogan hater on the planet, lol!


	6. Chapter 6: Lets get ready to camp!

**Upon the sad news that Kurt Angle has been released, I would like to dedicate this story to him. He was, is and always will be one of the wrestlers I admire the most for putting their bodies on the line and giving everything to the fans. Whether it was in the ring, delivering a promo or whatever, the man stood out to me and shall always be one of my all time favourites.**

**I just hope that he will be there for his wife, daughter and unborn son. If his release was to protect him, his body and his family from harm, then may it be for the best. **

**Now, onto the next chapter...**

- - - - - - - - - -

As the bus hopelessly continued to make it's way to the campsite, the men were once again becoming restless. Heat starved the automobile of air as everyone did their up most in an attempt to keep themselves cool.

As Jonathan Coachman continued to drive the run down bus, his phone started to bleep. He knew instantly who it would be.

Sighing, he accepted the call, putting the brand new, deluxe Motorola Raza to his ear, bracing himself for the worse.

Looking at each other mischievously, D Generation X member's Shawn Michaels and Triple H sprang from their seats in order to have a little fun with the poor Coach.

"Hello...yes, Mr. McMahon...no, we aren't yet...I'm sorry!" the Coach apologised, spying a twitchy faction at his side.

"COACH YOU CAN'T DRIVE _AND_ USE YOUR MOBILE PHONE!" the Heartbreak Kid yelled, Jonathan putting his finger over his lip like a tired, pissed off parent after their child refused to behave through out a dinner party.

"What...you're doing that, Jonathan?" Vince questioned, in an almost Fatherly way. He _did_ care for the Coach a little, but not too much. After all, he _was_ a business man! Once he had served his purpose, he would just have to be moved on and replaced.

"Yes, sorry Sir. I don't want to disappoint you, that's all!" he replied in an almost destroyed fashion.

"It's ok, Coachman as long as you do get to your destination soon."

"Yes Sir." he nodded, hearing his Bosses stern tone of voice.

"Are you both navigating and driving?" Vince asked forcefully.

"Ummm...yes!" the Coach responded timidly.

"BY GOD! Get one of them useless morons from the back to do it!" Vince demanded in shock.

"Will do." Coach muttered, trying to swat Hunter away from his bald head; he was slapping it as if it was a bongo drum!

"Oh, and Coach," Vince interrupted.

"Yes?"

"A new member of camp will meet you up there."

"Is he..."

"No, I couldn't get him I'm afraid. Speak soon!" Vince ended the call, leaving a defenceless Coach to fend for himself.

- - - - - - - - - -

Once again stopping the bus, DX stepped back comically, waiting for the Coach to make his announcement. As he stood, he once again unstuck his shirt from his damp, sweaty body and cleared his throat.

"Gentlemen, and Hogan." he began, watching the Hulkster awake from his slumber. "Mr. McMahon has ordered that one of you should navigate for me, as I drive."

As the wrestlers grumbled amongst themselves, none of them wanting the responsibility, Hunter came across an amazing discovery.

"Urgh, Coach?"

"Yes?"

"How much further have we got to go?" he asked, a hint of irony distinguishable in the King of Kings voice.

"Not too much further, why?"

"It's not the place right in front, oh, about two hundred yards that says 'campsite' is it?" Hunter pointed, chuckles coming from the rest of the bus.

"Yes, ummm, indeed it is!" Coachman returned to his seat, blushing as brightly as a ripe tomato as DX high fived and returned back to their seats.

After a few more minutes of travelling, the about knackered bus pulled thankfully into the campsite. After being given the all clear to enter, the Coach parked the 'veichle' up as the other seven men, and Hogan, stood to stretch, making their way gratefully off the bus and pulling their luggage from the bus' storage compartment.

Spying their surroundings, the beginning of the journey couldn't have been more opposite to the beautiful scenery they were amongst; a calming lake drifting carelessly past, the sweet humming's of young birds, the fresh aroma of the summer evening.

But how long would the trip be beautiful for?

"Right, guys, if I could have your attention for a minute?" The Coach spoke, in an almost friendly manner. "It's two people to share a tent each."

As the tents were handed out, Kurt looked at Shawn and Hunter in despair; he really, _really_ didn't want to have to share with some other tosser.

"Oh and, by the way D Generation X, Mr. McMahon has asked me to make myself clear that under no circumstance can you two share a tent together."

Looking disappointed at each other, Shawn turned to face Kurt. "I'll share with you, ok?"

"Yeah, great!" Kurt replied with joy.

Hunter rolled his eyes, placing his hands on his hips. What was he to do now?

"Oh, I'm sorry Hunter, you didn't want to, did you?" Shawn quizzed uneasily, gesturing over to the 1996 Olympic Gold Medallist.

"No, it's ok." the Cerebral Assassin nodded a little down cast, rubbing his strong, stubble chin. Who was he meant to share with now?

"Don't feel too down hearted!" Randy inspired, placing a comforting arm around a confused Triple H. "You can always share with me!"

"Great." Hunter muttered through gritted teeth.

Could the Games evening get any worse?

"Everyone, gather around!" the Coach demanded again, pushing his metallic orange sunglasses higher up his nose, as he began to speak solemnly. "Now, as you all know, Mark Henry couldn't make it on this trip..."

"He couldn't even make it on the bus!" Carlito wise cracked, throwing his trade mark cheeky grin in for good measure.

A less than amused Coach raised an eyebrow again. He just knew the next few days would be hell for him unless Vince sent an enforcer who was on the same wavelength as himself.

"Thank you." the Coach coughed, signalling for silence. "However, Mr.McMahon has assured me that a replacement enforcer will be on his way here within the next hour or two. For now, under strict instructions, the Chairman of the WWE has ordered us to build our tents. The first team which to do so is to start cooking."

Each of the wrestlers peered at each other with tomfoolery on their minds; there was no way they'd rush to complete their tents now!

"Come on, move it people!" the Coach urged, who would be sharing a tent with the so far absent enforcer. He was possibly the only ecstatic member of the campers right now who, for the most part, were dawdling along at their own pace, none of them wanting to be responsible for meal times.

However, one thing is for certain; they won't be going at their slow pace for long as the rumblings of a quad bike can be heard in the not too distant future with shattered glass, beer cans and foul language!

- - - - - - - - - -

Next time in 'Good Intentions?'...

Who is the new enforcer? Plus, how do the gang react when their is a food shortage?

Check back for more, soon!


	7. Chapter 7: Picture perfect?

"What's that?" Shawn spied Kurt as the duo put the final peg in their tent that they would be sharing together for a few nights.

Both men listened alertly. It was true, there was a noise to be heard; the deranged grumbling of a vehicle, accompanied by a loud rock track which both men recognised quite well.

"Oh no..." the Heartbreak Kid muttered, peering at the Olympic Gold Medallist in despair.

"Say it isn't so!" he shook his head, both men stepping out of the tent for a closer inspection.

"Can you hear that sound?" the Legend Killer asked his reluctant tent partner.

"Yeah, unfortunately I can!" Triple H sneered in disapproval. "Let's go look!"

"Ok." Randy replied, following the Game from the tent.

Out of no where, the mad man driving the four wheeler sped past Hunter, only a few inched from hitting him! Luckily, or perhaps not, Randy pulled him out of danger, grasping him tightly.

"Are you ok?" he mumbled, helping the King of Kings to wipe the dust off his t-shirt and trousers.

"Just fine!" Triple H barked, swatting Orton's straying hands away from him, stepping closer to his best friend, lacing an arm around his neck to indicate that there are no hard feelings from earlier of sharing a tent with Kurt.

"Are you sure you're ok?" the Showstoppa' quizzed in concern.

"Yep, I'm good." he nodded unsurely.

As the other superstars made their way from their tents, the enforcer revved up his bike a few times, scaring the baby birds in the near by area. Taking a couple of beers from the front basket, he opened two, guzzling them down as if there was no tomorrow.

Turning to face the eight men, and Hogan, he grinned wickedly to the campers. Pushing past Mick Foley, he looked everyone up and down before turning to speak to the Coach.

"You've got some sorry sons of bitches right here!" the Texan snarled, taking another gulp of his beloved beer, once again spying the men up and down.

"Yes, indeed I have!" the Coach mocked, a little shocked and surprised that his enforcer would the none other than the Rattlesnake after what Vince had told him on the phone.

"Yep, this is a disaster!" the sheriff tittered to himself, pulling his baseball cap further down his head.

"Well, I for one am glad you are here!" Jonathan begun, smirking sinfully at the wrestlers, Hogan and Foley, taking another look at his partner in crime. "You see..."

Before the Coach could even spit his sentence out of his mouth, a picture perfect Stone Cold Stunner was delivered to him.

'Hang on a minute...' Ric Flair mused to himself. "Austin's stunners never looked as good as that!'

As the enforcer got close to an now unconscious Coachman, many of the other campers began to smell a rat. "He's not Stone Cold!" Foley exclaimed, stepping forward to point at the impostor, hastily standing back again to hug his pay cheque.

The fraud shot his toothy, gleaming grin at the group of suspicious men, throwing the camouflage base ball cap to the ground.

"YO, IT'S ME, IT'S ME, IT'S D-D-P!" he called out, posing to the gang, who were by this time in amazement that..._he_ was going to be the enforcer?

"More like S-A-D!" Orton wise cracked to Carlito.

"Dat...dat was a cool joke!"

"How ya doing guys?" Diamond Dallas Page smile once again in an affectionate way, removing his jacket and placing it on top of his quad bike.

"Fine...long time no see!" Kurt shook his head in amazement, walking over to hug the King of Badda Bing.

"Probably a good job!" Foley sniggered to himself.

- - - - - - - - - -

After becoming reacquainted with each other, the campers waited for a few minutes for the Coach to regain some sort of consciousness.

"Come on Coach!" Hunter called. "You said the first person to build their tent would be the one that would be making dinner!"

Clutching his head, the Coach stood to his feet, regaining some sort of composure. Wiping any leaves from his frame, his eyes became wider. "Oh...shit!"

"What's the matter, buddy?" DDP questioned cheerfully, his trademark smile still plastered firmly across his face.

"I...I forgot to bring any food!" he stammered, closing his eyes tightly shut to avoid the wrestlers, Hogan and Foley's expressions.

"You STUPID son of a BITCH!" the Nature Boy cried, elbow dropping the ground in disgust.

"You _have_ to be kidding us!" the Cerebral Assassin rose, getting closer to Vince's assistance face.

"I..I'm sorry!" he stuttered, his hands forming in a praying position as he dropped to his knees.

"Does anyone have any food, at all?" the Icon asked, turning to face the others as Carlito wondered dubiously away, taking a closer peek at some of the habitat surrounding him.

Everyone else shook their heads. They had a few bottles of mineral water but that was about it. No one had any food.

Or did they?

"Just a minute!" Orton yelled. "Carlito...he has a big bag of apples!"

"No I don't!" Mr Cool responded sharply, denying it with all of his might.

"Come on man, I know you do!" the Legend Killer persisted, his eyes trying to pursued him other wise.

"Fine, I do but I'm not sharing them!" he snapped, once again strolling away from the camping area.

"There must be some more food around here somewhere..." Coachman contemplated, rubbing his chin for inspiration.

"If you hadn't forgotten it in the first place, we wouldn't be in this mess to begin with!" the King of Kings sternly spoke, poking Jonathan's chest.

"Yeah, it's your fault, you get us out of it!" Foley agreed whole heartedly.

As the campers grumbled amongst themselves, there was only one man willing to be the voice of reason at this time of crisis...

"Guys, guys calm down!" Dallas Page urged, gesturing for everyone to sit down. "All we need to do is go and find a shop or, alternatively, some food, right here in the campsite!"

"I prefer the idea of finding food here!" the Wrestling Machine nodded.

"Yeah...it's free!" the Hardcore Legend rocked backwards and forwards, still grasping the young, un-cashed check in his hairy arms.

"Either way, I think two people should try and find a shop whilst two people try and find some food from here." DDP spoke logically. "Shawn, Ric, if you don't mind finding some food here whilst Hogan and Mick go to the shop..."

"YOU MEAN, I HAVE TO DO SOMETHNG, BROTHER?" Hogan yelped, standing to his feet as quickly as he could.

"Yes, yes indeed." Diamond confirmed calmly.

"YOU KNOW SOMETHING, BROTHER, I'M NOT GONNA BE VERY QUICK BROTHER..."

"Well, I'd get moving then!" Randy raised an eyebrow sarcastically.

"As long as I don't spend any of my money, I'll go!" Mick muttered incoherently to himself, wondering off into the darkness with the Hulkster.

But will either of the groups be able to obtain any food?

- - - - - - - - - -

Next time in 'Good Intentions?'...

As they wait for any news on the food situation, what do those left back at camp do to preoccupy their minds? Plus, who obtains more food out of the teams of Shawn Michaels plus Ric Flair and Mick Foley plus Hulk Hogan?

Check back for more, soon!

- - - - - - - - - -

Ha ha, fooled ya, lol! Hope you liked the alternative enforcer!


	8. Chapter 8: This could get nasty!

As the separate teams of Shawn Michaels and Ric Flair, who were busy searching for food in the near by forest, and Mick Foley and Hulk Hogan who were, reluctantly, searching for a near by shop, this left the other wrestlers to deal with their situation.

As they gathered a few broken down logs to act as seats, Diamond Dallas Page surveyed his surroundings with that big, ol' toothy grin still plastered across his face.

"What's up with that creepy ass smile?" Randy Orton questioned Carlito, as the two men took the next bench to the camping area.

"Carlito thinks he should have it surgically removed..." he muttered to a smirking Orton. "Dat...dat would be cool!"

Rubbing his hands together, DDP spoke up. "We need to get a fire lit. It'll get mighty cold later on!"

"What, in the middle of summer?" Hunter sarcastically quizzed, no one taking a blind bit of notice.

"Does anyone know how to light a fire?" the Olympic Gold Medallist questioned his fellow campers.

As everyone spied each other up and down before shaking their heads, the King of Badda Bing stepped in.

"You know, once you know how it's really easy!" he grinned, picking up a few sticks from the area around him. "Who wants to be a part of this learning experience?"

Everyone coughed in the background, Mr. Page simply shrugged to himself, bending down on his hands and knees to begin work on making the fire.

- - - - - - - - - -

Elsewhere, Shawn and Ric weren't having too much luck...

"What about these?" the 16 time World Champion ask, pointing to some of the berries at the side of the grass.

The Heartbreak Kid smirked. "Nope, they're poisoness too!" he replied, running a hand through his blonde locks. "You're not really at one with nature, are you?"

"The Nature boy doesn't need to be at one with nature...WHOOOOO!" Ric replied, strutting away from a disturbed Shawn.

- - - - - - - - - -

Hogan and Foley, however, were having much better luck than the other duo. They had managed to find a small, convenience store that - although only stocked a minimalist amount of food - would be better than nothing.

Collecting several items and flinging them into the minuscule basket that Mick guarded with his life, the Hulkster was becoming desperate for food. As quickly as he could, he dawdled down several aisles, grabbing anything and everything available to him as an MTV cameraman taped his every move.

The hardcore legend was becoming very distressed indeed with the whole situation; all of the food supplies cost money! Catching up with the 'Immortal' one, be began to remove stuff from the basket.

"WHATCHA THINK YOU'RE DOIN' BROTHER?" he yelled, the whole shop coming to a stand still.

"Taking stuff out of the basket." Foley shrugged, very matter of factly.

Placing the basket on the wooden, splintered floor, Mick folded his arms waiting for Hogan to say something.

"YA KNOW SOMETHIN', BROTHER, YOU HAVE TO PAY YOUR DUES IN LIFE!" Hulk continued to babble, flinging his arms in the air as he did so, attracting even more attention than needed to the situation.

"I'm not paying for your stinking food and that's final!" Mick pointed at the elder man. "You washed up piece of crap!"

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A WASHED UP PIECE OF CRAP...BROTHER!" Hulk gasped, his nose touching Foleys.

The hardcore legend put his hands on his hips and sighed to himself. "I don't deserve this crap!" he began. But before he said anymore, he scampered out of the door, leaving Hogan to deal with the shopping.

- - - - - - - - - -

Back at camp, all of the men were becoming restless. As their stomach's rumbled, DDP was the one left to deal with the disaster.

"I know." he spoke, stepping away from the newly lit fire, heading over to the tent he would be sharing with Coachman. "Let's have a sing song!" he beamed, pulling out his acoustic guitar.

"Huh, no thanks!" the King of Kings declined.

"Why not, Trips?" Diamond Dallas Page smiled warmly, talking to him in a friendly way.

"Have you heard these guys sing?" the Cerebral Assassin gestured towards Kurt and Randy.

"It's no cool!" Carlito added.

"Hey man, I have a beautiful voice...just like the rest of me!" the Legend Killer rose to his feet, posing arrogantly, winking to Triple H.

"Who said I couldn't freakin' sing!" the Wrestling Machine piped up, deeply offended by the jabs.

"No offence Kurt but...it's bad!" Hunter attempted to sympathise, placing a comforting hand on Kurt's shoulder.

"Oh no, no don't say that!" DDP shook his head in disapproval. "Let's just say it is...interesting, unique, different!" he cheered, trying to displace the negative vibes.

"Either way, it's terrible!" Hunter muttered, Kurt's lips forming into that of a pout.

Before either man could say any more, one of the teams returned from their travels...

"Hey guys!" Shawn called, stepping over a few branches.

"Did you find anything?" Randy questioned, returning to his seat.

"No, unfortunately. Only this old candy bar!" Ric told the group.

"No matter how old it is," DDP began. "It still has it's uses in the world!"

"I bet he's the moron that told Flair and Hogan that!" the Coach cockily snipped, nudging a grinning Orton.

"You guys are lucky! You are just in time for the sing song!" DDP enthused, clutching his guitar tighter to his chest.

"Ummm, all of a sudden I've got a headache coming on!" the Heartbreak Kid falsely responded, clutching his head.

"Will you be ok, Shawn?" Hunter answered woodenly, winking to him in hope of getting out of the 'concert' himself.

Before they could disappear, a flustered looking Foley ventured back into the camping area. "That's it I've HAD IT!" he shouted, dragging some of his hair out from the roots. "I QUIT!"

"You can't just quit!" Coachman intervened.

"Go on, let him!" Ric urged.

"I can if I want to!" Mick told in a child like tone of voice, once again folding his hairy arms over his scarred chest.

"If you do, we shall inform the bank not to cash that check." The Coach showed his authority for the first time on the whole trip.

Foley gulped. Would they really be that harsh...to take money away from a family man? Surely not. Yet, he could detect that look of determination on the Coaches face. Spying his check, peering back over to the Coach, he knew he couldn't...

"Fine, I'll stay!" he grumbled. "But I swear that I'll never, ever lose site of this check...not the whole time we are here!" he warned.

But will Mick soon live to regret that decision?

- - - - - - - - - -

Next time in 'Good Intentions?'...

Hulk Hogan returns with food but is everyone satisfied? Plus, night starts to draw in but what will the campers do the next day?

Check back for more, soon!


	9. Chapter 9: Food, fantasies and fidgeting

After Mick Foley's decision to stay at the campsite, the gang had been very quiet. Diamond Dallas Page had given up on the idea of trying to get them all to have a sing song. Yet, he was still positive that the rest of the trip would go smoothly...

The Hulkster returned a few minutes later with a few heavy looking bags of food. "Do you need any help?" DDP questioned charitably.

"THE HULIKSTER, WITH HIS 24 INCH PYTHONS CAN MANAGE JUST FINE...BROTHER!" Hogan yelled, posing whilst still clutching the bags of shopping.

Suddenly, the bag handles broke, landing with a thud on the Hucksters foot! As the camera rushed to Hogan's side, everyone else shrugged dashing over to retrieve the food.

"TURN THE FUCKING CAMERA OFF, BROTHER!" Hogan cried in pain, groping his foot as he laid across three of the benches, not wanting his embarrassing moments to be displayed across international television.

"This food stinks!" the Legend Killer sneered, digging deep into the bottom of each bag to try and salvage anything worth while.

"Who decided on beef jerky?" Shawn wailed, holding the greasy packaging in the air, glancing over at a sulking Mick and pissed off Hogan.

"YA KNOW SOMETHIN', BROTHER, I DID THE BEST I COULD..."

"Obviously it wasn't good enough." Triple H interjected, dumping the food ungratefully on the ground.

The King of Badda Bing could see where this was heading...

"People, let's calm down." he urged, after a few moments everyone settling down. "The food situation is good, ok? We can live off this stuff..."

"Maybe _you_ can." Kurt muttered, folding his arms over his chest.

"But it's substantial for this evening and tomorrow morning, ok?" DDP concluded, picking up the packages before examining each of them.

Reassigning them into carrier bags, he took an old, worn, paint chipped pan from the bus before placing it over the fire to heat it up. Humming to himself, he took the few pork chops that Hogan had managed to salvage and put them in the pan, with cut up peppers and other assorted vegetables.

The other members of camp looked at him in shock. How could he stay this calm during such a crisis?

"He must be some sort of...FREAK!" Foley cried suggestively.

"Says the person that is continually clutching a check?" Hunter quizzed rhetorically, the Heartbreak Kid and Olympic Gold Medallist smirking in agreement.

"You sure brought a load of food!" The King of Badda Bing piped up.

"THE CAMERA MAN PAID FOR IT BROTHER, COZ THE HULKSTER JUST STEALS STUFF SO HE DOESN'T HAVE TO WASTE HIS MONEY...BROTHER!"

The campsite went silent as the 'Immortal' one continued to pose for the cameras.

- - - - - - - - - -

As the aroma of freshly cooked vegetables and meat surrounded the air, the wrestlers, Foley and Hogan began to feel more than slightly peckish.

"Ya know, the Coach would have made such a better stir fry than that!" Vince's assistant cockily spoke, grinning over confidently to himself as he clutched both of his hands together in his usual arrogant pose.

"Maybe tomorrow you should give cooking a try then," DDP replied in a friendly tone of voice, adding sweet and sour sauce to the mixture. "We could make it a...a competition between us! Yes, it would be a good learning opportunity to us all!" the enforcer continued to beam, holding out his hand for Jonathan to shake.

Upon Coachman's refusal to shake Diamond Dallas Page's hand, the Wrestling Machine creped up behind him, Angle Slamming him through his tent! As the Coach lay in a pool of metal and torn fabric, the other members of camp tittered to one another.

"Ok, dinner's ready!" DDP called, dishing up the piping hot food.

As the gang finished their meal, the Coach began to regain consciousness once again, grasping his head in pain.

"Oh, hey Coach." Kurt shrugged, continuing to shovel the few remaining spoonfuls of food in his mouth.

The Coach was fuming. "You...you?"

"Uh hum, no bad language please! C'mon Coach, there is still plenty for you!" DDP offered, taking a sort of clean dish and spoon, putting the now anaemic looking food in the bowl.

Taking the meal gratefully, the Coach took a seat next to a well fed Carlito. "Dat...dat was a cool meal!"

"Thank you, Carlito!" DDP smiled creepily, concerning Mr Cool significantly as he moved away from the enforcer.

- - - - - - - - - -

After the washing up had been done at the near facilities, everyone returned to camp side, a little unsure as to what to do now with their evening.

"Right now, if Carlito was at home, I would be picking up hot girls!" he spoke, a dream like grin crept across his face.

"If I was home Stephie would be making me change dirty nappies!" Hunter chuckled lightly to himself, a picture of his perfect first born filling his mind.

"But you wouldn't change it for the world, right?" Shawn inquired, taking a sip of his mineral water, rolling his eyes as if he'd heard the statement more than a million times before.

"Exactly!" Hunter nudged HBK.

"Go on Hogan, tell us what you'd be doing?" Randy Orton questioned sarcastically.

"IF I WAS AT HOME, BROTHER, I'D BE COUNTING MY MILLIONS, LINING UP MY WORLD TITLE BELTS, SAYING MY PRAYERS AND EATING MY VITAMINS...BROTHER!" the Hulkster posed for the camera man.

"Hey, that's the same as me...except for the world title belts...and vitamins...and prayers..." Mick Foley interjected.

"Wow, you two BASTARDS have a lot of spare time!" Ric Flair joked, swigging his root beer casually.

"It would take Hogan longer to count his joint replacements!" Hunter quipped.

"Oh it's true...it's damn true!" Kurt joked.

"Please can we cut out the negativity?" DDP urged the group.

"Besides," the Coach began, clearing his throat. "Mr. McMahon wanted me to inform you that we'd be in for a busy day tomorrow and to go to bed early."

The group muttered and found their tents for the night. Hunter hugged Shawn good night before being subjected to an evening with the Legend Killer...

"What are you wearing to bed?" Randy inquired, pulling out his ancient, brown teddy bear with a red button as a replacement eye, hiding it out of Hunter's sight.

"Ummm, clothes?" the King of Kings rolled his eyes, praying that the next few hours would be over as quickly as possible.

- - - - - - - - - -

Meanwhile, the Coach was flicking through the text messages on his phone as Diamond Dallas Page got in the sleeping bag next to him.

"Ha ha, DX don't stand a chance!" he wickedly laughed, propping his head up with his left arm.

"That isn't very nice now is it?" The King of Badda Bing felt the need to state.

"No but, they haven't been very nice to Mr. McMahon for months now!" Coachman tried to reason.

"Coach, have you ever heard of a little something called Karma?"

"Yes?"

"Let me assure you that it really works."

"Yeah but then it's Karma for DX to get the punishment of a life time!" Coach put across his point of views.

- - - - - - - - - -

Meanwhile, Kurt and Shawn were already fast asleep in their separate sleeping bags. Suddenly, they could hear a little scream but were too engrossed in their dreams to care.

Suddenly, a familiar figure leapt inside their tent.

"Hunter!" Shawn squinted "What's going on?"

"Orton, the little pissant started making...suggestive comments..."

"What like?" Kurt asked, sighing and sitting up in his bag.

"You don't wanna know!" he gasped, running a hand through his blonde locks. "Please, let me stay in here, just for a while, until he gets to sleep! I'll be out before the Coach gets up so that he doesn't find out."

"I dunno." Shawn responded, pulling the blankets closer to him.

"Please?" Hunter continued to whine, knowing that the Heartbreak Kid would give in soon enough.

"Fine, just don't keep me awake!" Shawn snapped a little as the Game threw his sleeping bag in between Kurt and Shawn settling down for the evening.

But would everyone get a peaceful night's sleep?

- - - - - - - - - -

Next time in 'Good Intentions?'...

What's in store for the gang - and D Generation X - the next day? Will sparks begin to fly?

Check back for more, soon!

- - - - - - - - - -

Thanks to everyone who is still reading and reviewing!

Now, I know that some of you don't know who DDP, Diamond Dallas Page, The King of Badda Bing is. He was basically WCW's version of Steve Austin for a while until he came to the WWE and turned into a positive motivational speaker. Hope that clears that up for you!

- - - - - - - - - -

Please review!


	10. Chapter 10: Who can we trust?

As the morning sun rose high in the sky, the Coach awoke from his tent and stretched. Today was to be a good day. He just knew it. He had a very positive feeling surrounding him and couldn't wait for the destruction of D Generation X to begin.

Diamond Dallas Page was eager for his challenge to Coachman to go ahead; Vince's special assistant would be making breakfast for the campers so was up a little earlier than everyone else in order to begin cooking and to start the evil scheme.

Much to his pleasure, Shawn Michaels was the first man up other than himself. As the Heartbreak Kid dragged some of his belongings from the tent quietly, so he didn't wake Kurt up, he greeted the Coach in a civil manner, digging in one of his bags to find his washing supplies.

"Hey, ummm, Shawn, can I have a word with you?" Jonathan mumbled, leading him to a more deserted area of the campsite. An area which no one would be able to hear their conversation...

"What is it Coach?" the Showstoppa' questioned. "I wanted to go and have a wash and everything before anyone else."

"Don't worry it won't take a few minutes." Coach promised. "I dunno whether it's my place to say anything but, I uh, over heard Triple H talking to Randy Orton last night."

Just as Shawn was about to open his mouth and say "nice try Coach, Hunter was in mine and Kurt's tent last night" he realised that, if he did, it would land them all in big time trouble with the boss. Not that the Game would mind but Shawn was becoming increasingly more aware of Mr. McMahon's plots to take action against the duo.

"Go on." Shawn implored, running his fingers through his dirty blonde hair.

"Well, let's just say it wasn't very complimentary, that's for sure!" Jonathan semi-laughed, knowing for well that he needed to be careful what he said.

"And?" Shawn gestured, losing his patience rather quickly.

"And, well, he said that you were a wet blanket."

"A wet blanket?" the Icon asked ironically, rolling his eyes and tittering to himself.

"Yes and that you were getting on his nerves. He said something like, he wished that you would stop trying to keep on the good side of Vince...He called you an ass kisser." Coach concluded, standing in his usual pose.

"Nice try, Hunter wouldn't say anything like that about me." Shawn chuckled wearily, pushing Coachman out of his way slightly, strolling over to the washing facilities.

"Talk to Randy if you don't believe me." Jonathan beseeched, seeing uneasiness cloud Shawn's face.

Rubbing a hand over his stubble, Shawn walked quickly away from the scene, not knowing whether to trust the Coach of not. He knew that the Coach was full of crap and believed Mr. McMahon's hype. However, he also knew that maybe, just maybe, Hunter was a little stressed out with him. After all, on the bus, he _did _call Shawn a wet blanket because he wouldn't go along with his plans.

But calling him an ass kisser? That didn't sound like his best friend at all. 'There's only one thing I can do.' Shawn mused to himself.

- - - - - - - - - -

Meanwhile, as the Coach strolled cockily back to the camping area, a grin plastered across his face, it quickly disappeared when he saw the Cerebral Assassin. He knew that he needed to be more than just a little persuasive when it came to Triple H, if he was to believe anything he was telling him.

Unlike Shawn, the Coach knew that Hunter wasn't too gullible. He realised that he would have to be firm if the Game was to listen to what he was telling him.

Strolling up behind him, he spied the King of Kings as he sipped his beloved mineral water. Turning to face him, Hunter knew that the Coach was up to something.

"What's up with you?" he inquired, expecting to hear a load of rubbish.

"Not a lot." Jonathan shrugged, knocking his hands together in a generic fashion.

"Are you gonna stand their all day, looking like you've been sucking lemons all night or are you gonna tell me what's going on?" Hunter growled, setting Coachman's nerves on edge.

"I'm not going to lie to you," Vince's assistant began, knowing that he started the talk off in a really lousy way. "But there's something I need to tell you..."

"What ya waiting for then?" Triple H urged, taking another mouthful of the refreshing beverage.

"Shawn's been talking smack about you, behind your back."

Hunter had seen that look of distrust on the Coach's face before. "Ha, yeah right!"

"No, I'm being serious here," Coach almost begged the Game to listen to him. "I heard him talking to Randy last night."

"Since when do Shawn and Orton have in depth conversations with each other?" Hunter raised an eyebrow.

"They seemed pretty cosy last night." Coach assured him.

"Go on then, spill the beans, what has he been saying about me?" Hunter asked sarcastically.

"He was telling Randy just how pissy you have been with him lately, how you keep making DX more about you and less about him. How you use him to make you look stronger and make him appear weaker." Coach told, praying to Satan in hope that the King of Kings had faith in him.

"Bullshit!" Hunter scoffed, taking another gulp of water.

"No, I'm being serious." the Coach answered, "If you don't believe me, go and see who Shawn's taking his morning wash with." he suggested, patting Hunter on his shoulder as he began to cook the morning's meal.

- - - - - - - - - -

Whilst the Coach was talking to Hunter, the Legend Killer noticed his former mentors missed presence in the tent. Grabbing his shower essentials, he scampered to the washing area where he found the Heartbreak Kid rinsing his hair.

"Hey," Randy casually greeted. "Did you have a good night?"

"Not too bad, how about you?" Shawn quizzed sociably.

"I'm good. Do you know where Hunter went last night?" Randy inquired, squirming in displeasure as he felt the cold water against his body.

"He came in our tent for a while, ya know, apparently you were harassing him or something?"

Randy merely giggled uneasily, not replying to the Icon's question. As the two men continued their business, Shawn cleared his throat.

"Ummm, Randy, can I ask you something?"

"As long as it isn't where do babies come from coz I still have a hard time with that one!"

Shawn smiled awkwardly. "Did..."

"Yes?" Randy enquired innocently.

"Did Hunter say anything to you, about me last night?"

"Of course he did, he's always talking about you. You're are apart of his D Generation X following, I mean, faction." the young Orton corrected himself, grabbing his towel.

"Did he..." Shawn commenced, stopping himself. Did he really want to find out the truth?

"Did he what?" Randy requested.

"Nothing, it doesn't matter." Shawn sighed, rubbing any remaining soap suds away from his golden tanned body.

Unbeknownst to him, a pair of intrigued, yet horrified hazel eyes were watching his every move with great curiosity...

- - - - - - - - - -

Next time in 'Good Intentions?'...

Who will D Generation X trust more; the Coach, Randy or each other?

Check back for more, soon!

- - - - - - - - - -

Ok, first off, a big thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. It's great to hear which aspects of the story you enjoyed which can help me in the long run.

This chapters up a day early due to the maintenance work.

Also, I was surprised to find out how many of you didn't know who DDP was. If you are ever unsure of anything, don't hesitate to personal message me or put something like that in a review and I'll hopefully clarify it for you!

If any of you can't read some of the chapters, then message me and I'll get them to you. Thanks to LC for pointing that out to me!

Thanks for reading, please review!


	11. Chapter 11: How could you?

After finishing getting washed and dressed, Shawn Michaels strolled back to the campsite where now the majority of the wrestlers were awake and up, waiting for Coachman to serve them 'breakfast'.

Seeing his best friend sat all alone on one of the log benches, the Heartbreak Kid went to hug a very emotionless looking Triple H. Taking the seat next to him, Shawn was the first one to speak.

"So...are you ok this morning?"

"Yes." Hunter replied bluntly, turning away slightly from the Icon.

Shawn couldn't honestly believe it; what was going on with him? Why was he so grumpy all of a sudden? Yet, he knew that if he just asked Hunter that he would more than likely snap at him which wouldn't solve anything.

Deciding that it would be best just to leave it be at least for the time being, Shawn wondered off in search of the Olympic Gold Medallist, leaving Hunter in charge of his own thoughts.

- - - - - - - - - -

After an, ummm, eventful breakfast served by Jonathan Coachman (as in, the bacon was burnt to a crisp, the eggs were more than runny and don't even get started on the beans!) the still ravenous gang sat around in a circle waiting for their orders from the Coach.

"Now, tomorrow Mr. McMahon has organised something quite special for all of us."

"What? He's gonna jump off a cliff!" Hunter wise cracked.

"No." Coachman shook his head in disgust. How come everyone felt so negatively towards the boss that he adored?. "Tomorrow, there will be a competition, two teams, as to who can hike five miles in the shortest amount of time." Jonathan told.

"HOW D'YA EXPECT ME, BROTHER TO BE ASSED TO HIKE ALL THAT WAY BROTHER, WITH A FALSE KNEE AND A FAKE HIP...BROTHER!" Hogan yelled.

"I do realise that there will be, ummm, physical limitations for some members of the group." the Coach reasoned. "However, it will be the team captains who must urge you on and to also the teams responsibility to help those who are...how can I put this nicely?" Coachman trailed off, rubbing his chin for inspiration. "Broken down has-beens."

"ARE YOU CALLING ME A BROKEN DOWN HAS BEEN, BROTHER!" the Hulkster cried in retaliation, posing for the MTV camera man.

"Don't include the Nature Boy in that stupid ASS statement either...WHOOOOOO!" Ric Flair joined in.

"Please, please!" Diamond Dallas Page begged, jumping from his seat. "These men are not broken down has beens! They are..."

"Old, washed up bastards?" the Legend Killer mocked arrogantly.

"Silence!" Coachman warned, wanting to continue his speech. "Like I was saying, it's a group exercise so all must participate to the best of their abilities."

The wrestlers, Hogan and Foley spied each other uneasily. Would they really have to do this?

"Ummm, Coach," Shawn began to question. "Who will be the team captains?"

"I'm glad you asked." Coach beamed evilly. "The team captains are going to be...Triple H and Shawn Michaels."

The D Generation X Godfathers stared each other up and down unsurely. They would be...against each other?

"Thank you, Vince." Hunter mumbled sarcastically, rubbing a hand over his unshaven chin.

"Who's on our teams?" Shawn quizzed, his eyes still locked with Triple H's.

"That's the fun part," Coachman chuckled to himself. "_You_ will be choosing who will be on _your_ teams."

Both men rolled their eyes and turned away from each other. They both knew this was a big set up by Vince. Both exhaling deeply, they scanned the campers, knowing fore well who to take for them teams.

"To decide who gets the first pick, it's going to be a coin toss." DDP announced. "Now, don't ever think that you've done anything wrong, not to get your chosen coin side, ok?" he enthused, his big toothy grin still shining brightly, even at this time of angst. "Head's or tails?" he peeped at both men.

"Heads!" they replied in unison, both glaring at each other. They really were closer than a lot of brothers. Of course, Vince was willing to do anything to stop this and tear them apart.

"Tails." Hunter gave in, staring at the ground below him.

"It's heads." DDP declared. "Shawn, you get the first pick. Now, both choose wisely!"

Gulping, Shawn took one glance at Hunter and knew that whom ever he chose first, he wouldn't like it. "Kurt." he stated, firmly shutting his eyes as the Wrestling Machine walking over to hug the team captain.

"What? That's so unfair!" the King of Kings argued hopelessly.

"Now, now." DDP reasoned. "Shawn _did_ win the coin toss. Besides it's your go!"

Peeking at each of the men, the Game knew that he had to make an impossible decision. "Randy." he grimaced, the Legend Killer came bounding over to his captain in glee.

"Alright, this is gonna be awesome!" Randy patted the King of Kings chest.

"Beat it." Hunter bellowed, Randy taking a few paces away from the Game.

- - - - - - - - - -

A few moments later, both of the teams were decided. Joining Shawn and Kurt would be Carlito and Hulk Hogan, leaving Hunter and the youngest Orton with Mick Foley and Ric Flair.

"Ok, settle down again." the Coach vied for attention. "Now, both teams will be given a map with their route on it. Although it should take the same amount of time to get to the hut which myself and Diamond Dallas Page are staying in, both teams shall be taking different routes. However, you may come across obstacles which, as a team, you will be forced to over come." Coachman told, the King of Badda Bing handing out the maps for each team.

"In a few moments, after observing your maps you shall be given the opportunity to get any supplies that you need." Vince's assistant informed.

As Hunter's team surveyed the map, an annoyed Triple H couldn't help but feel a little betrayed by his best friend. "It's not fair," he spoke to the only in shape member of the team, Randy. "He got both Kurt and Carlito. Who do we get, huh? The Nature Granddad and a dipshit missing an ear!"

"Hey," Foley chimed in "I heard that!"

"Whatever, the point is, we have the disadvantage!" the Cerebral Assassin concluded.

"We'll figure out a way." Randy promised. "You'll see."

"Oi!" the Hardcore Legend interrupted. "I hate to destroy the feel good moment and everything but where's my cash for being on this shitty team?"

"You'll only get paid if you shut your gob the whole time we are on this trip!" Hunter snarled, quite uncharacteristically.

- - - - - - - - - -

Shawn's team were getting along a lot better. The Heartbreak Kid knew that Hunter would not be best pleased that he had picked the young man Carlito but so what? If he hadn't have done, he knew that the Cerebral Assassin would have snapped him up upon his next pick.

Spying the equipment that Jonathan was unloading from the bus, Shawn immediately told his group what to get and what to ignore. "We need that plank of wood." Shawn stated. "We have to go across a river...it doesn't look to have a bridge. Oh and get whatever you guys think too...don't leave it all up to me!" he joked, the Coach announcing they could collect what they desired.

As the two team captains trudged over to the mound of crap, they both wanted one thing and one thing only; the plank off wood.

"Don't even think about it, Michaels!" Triple H warned, his eyes glued to the essential supply.

"Why not?" the Icon asked defensively.

"We need it, ok?" the King of Kings pointed to his team mates.

"We do too." Shawn replied.

The Heartbreak Kid felt Hunter's eyes burn holes through his body; anger welling up inside him, the Showstoppa' couldn't take it anymore. "Fine, take it you selfish bastard!"

"What did you say?" Hunter grunted, shocked to be sworn at.

"You heard." Shawn answered, getting close to Hunter's face before heading back to his tent.

Shrugging in amazement, Hunter took the plank off wood before rejoining his team. He couldn't believe how quickly Shawn had lost his temper, how quickly it took him to get so wound up.

But what would happen before the guys even get going on the hiking adventure?

- - - - - - - - - -

Next time in 'Good Intentions?'...

Do the team captains come to blows before the hiking extravaganza?

Check back for more, soon!


	12. Chapter 12: Breaking point?

Staring at the fabric ceiling of his tent, Shawn sighed heavily to himself. Rubbing a hand over his eyes, his patience had just been tested in a big way. He didn't know _why_ he had just called his supposed best friend a selfish bastard. He probably wouldn't have been able to explain it if he lived to be 100! He just felt anger build up inside him; frustration bubbling like lava in a volcano.

He just didn't know what was going on with him. There was something...missing. An unexplained circumstance that he couldn't lose from his thoughts. He couldn't understand the world around him.

Outside, the atmosphere was uneasy, very explosive. Shawn's team were confused, they didn't know what to do with the situation. Triple H's team, on the other hand, were carrying on like they had done beforehand.

Kurt stared Hunter up and down. Why wasn't he checking to see if the Heartbreak Kid was alright?

"Nice going." the Olympic Gold Medallist finally spoke, his fists clenched.

"What are you talking about?" the Game questioned in amazement.

"Why aren't you going to check if he's ok?"

"Selfish bastards don't check to see if their 'best friends' are ok, in case you've forgotten." Triple H snarled, turning back to his group.

"Hey!" Kurt yelled, grabbing Hunter's arm, spinning him back around. "Don't ignore me when I'm talking to you!"

Triple H's face turned sour. Just as he was about to swing for the Wrestling Machine, Diamond Dallas Page stepped in between the two. "Wow, guys, be a lover not a fighter!"

"Yeah, Kurt, time out!" Carlito dragged his team mate aside, over to his tent that he was sharing with the Icon.

"BROTHER!" Hogan cried, posing to the cameraman to divert the attention to him.

- - - - - - - - - -

Kurt stumbled into the tent. Sitting up, HBK looked at him questionably, running a hand through his golden locks.

"Hunter...he stepped over a line." Carlito began. "He's _really_ starting to piss me off."

"I know...I'm in the right mind to knock the hell out of him!" Kurt sneered.

"Guys, guys." Shawn spoke solemnly. "Look, I'm gonna go out there and apologise for what I said. It was uncalled for and unprofessional."

"What?" Carlito murmured.

"Shawn, don't. It's not your fault that Hunter's in a weird mood, ok?" Kurt encouraged.

"I know but, I really shouldn't have sworn at him, should I?"

"Yeah but he shouldn't act so pompous all of the time either!" Carlito reasoned.

"Where's Hogan?" Shawn questioned, trying to change the conversation to another matter.

"Oh, he'll be outside with the camera man." Kurt shrugged carelessly.

After a few more moments, the trio stepped back outside into the open area to rejoin Hogan and so that Shawn could apologise to Hunter. Raising his hand, Shawn told the Game he was sorry.

"Whatever, man." Hunter flipped him off, returning his attentions back to his group, as the Heartbreak Kid wondered reluctantly away from him.

- - - - - - - - - -

Soon enough, it was the evening. Everyone was sat around the toasty hot fire yet the atmosphere was as cold as ice. Diamond Dallas Page recognised this immediately and knew that he had to do something about it.

"Hey, since we didn't get a chance to yesterday, how about we have that sing song now, huh?" the King of Badda Bing suggested to a chorus of jeers.

"No, Lord no!" Coachman disagreed.

"I don't like guitars." Flair muttered.

"Yeah - they cost too much money!" Foley spoke, checking in his side pocket to make sure his beloved check was still there.

"I have a recorder if you prefer that?" DDP enthused.

"No means no, for fucks sake!" the Cerebral Assassin rubbed his tired eyes, losing his cool with the do gooder.

"Hunter, please." Shawn almost begged.

"No, I won't!" he replied, in a juvenile way.

"The man's just trying to bring a little spirit to the proceedings..." Kurt enforced the Heartbreak Kids pleas.

"More like being a pain in the ass!" Hunter mumbled.

"That's it, I'm going to bed." the Icon snarled.

"No, I'm going to bed!" Hunter stood, facing Shawn, both with an angered expression covering their faces.

"Why don't you just both go to bed?" Vince's special assistant recommended.

"Fine, we will!" the D Generation X leaders humphed in unison, zipping the tents hastily.

"BROTHER!" Hogan yelled, the cameraman from MTV getting closer to his frame.

"Poor Shawn." Kurt tutted. "There must be something we can do for him..."

A few seconds later, a cunning grin crept across the well defined face of Mr. Cool. "Maybe there is?"

- - - - - - - - - -

At the dead of night, with all of the wrestlers and Foley fast asleep in their sacks, Kurt, Carlito and Hogan agreed to meet up to discuss their plan of action.

"WHATCHA GONNA DO BROTHER, WHEN THE HULKSTER CAN'T BE BOTHERED TO STAY UP WITH YOU?" he cried, the camera man turning on the night time vision on his equipment.

"Oh please, it's not like you have got anything better to do." Carlito scoffed.

"THE HULKSTER NEEDS TO BE IN BED BROTHER, SAYING HIS PRAYERS BROTHER AND GETTING HIS BEAUTY SLEEP...BROTHER!"

"You need a hell of a lot of that!" Kurt chuckled.

"Come on, let's go get it..." Carlito whispered, leading the group off into the darker corners of the camping site.

- - - - - - - - - -

A few moments later, Shawn was suddenly disturbed by his group members clambering noisily into his tent. Shaking his head, he couldn't believe it. "Guys, what are you doing?" he quizzed tiredly.

"Surprise!" Carlito grinned, holding out his 'present' to the Showstoppa'; the plank of wood that Hunter took away earlier.

"What?" Shawn gasped. "Have you three got a death wish or something?"

"Come on Shawn, what's he gonna do, steal it back from us?" Carlito joked ironically.

"I dunno, just go and put it back." Shawn yawned, objecting to the shady tactics his team was using.

- - - - - - - - - -

Hunter awoke from his slumber to find Orton sleeping dangerously close to him! Raising an eyebrow, he moved the Legend Killer out of the way, deciding to take a little stroll for a few minutes to prevent getting cramp in his leg for the big hike later on in the day.

Stretching when he got outside the tent, he went over to his teams equipment. How proud he was that he'd obtained the plank...but where was it? Surely it couldn't have just got up and walked off of it's own accord. "Michaels..." Hunter growled, his lips curling and his brow creasing, he marched his way over to the tent of his 'ally', surprised that someone would stoop so low.

"MICHAELS!" he bellowed, tearing the tent undone. "Where is it?"

"Where's what?" Shawn inquired, annoyed that he had once again been interrupted in his sleep.

"Don't 'where's what' me!" Hunter demanded. "Where _is_ it?"

"If I knew what you were talking about, I would be able to help you." Shawn attempted to remain calm, his eyes heavy.

Kurt gulped. "This?" he questioned, his voice becoming smaller and his eyes shutting tightly.

"What?" Shawn asked in disapproval. "I thought..."

"You thought what?" Hunter snarled.

"Look, Carlito, Kurt and Hogan went to get it earlier. I told them to take it back...honestly!"

"Yeah, right." Hunter chuckled sarcastically.

"No, he's speaking the truth." Kurt piped up.

"Yeah right, you'd stick up for that dipshit if he was on trial for murder and you'd seen him do it!" the Cerebral Assassin scorned, gesturing towards the Heartbreak Kid.

"Only if it was you who he'd killed!" Kurt screwed his eyes up, locking up with the Games.

"Take the wood." Shawn bowed his head in a troubled manner.

"What's the matter Shawn, huh?" Hunter rhetorically quizzed. "Am I being too harsh on you?"

"I've told you; take the plank and go." Shawn urged, through gritted teeth, closing his eyes to keep his cool.

"Fine," Hunter nodded, snatching the wood from Kurt. "But this isn't the last you've heard of this...no chance!"

But would the groups be in a fit state to compete in the hiking competition?

- - - - - - - - - -

Next time in 'Good Intentions?'...

As the teams set off, do they have any departing words for each other? Is disaster destined to strike?

Check back for more, soon!


	13. Chapter 13: I don't know you anymore

After a restless nights sleep, all campers awoke from their slumber at the first notice of the dawning sun. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Hunter wondered down to the washing area, collecting his fluffy, blue towel, flannel, soap and shampoo, not saying a word to anyone, not even his own team mates.

Humming to himself, he was trying to get himself in a better frame of mind before the competition. He knew that if he was stressed out, he wouldn't be able to lead his team onto victory or be able to compete at his best.

Reaching the washing area, the Game came to a stand still. Someone who he didn't expect to be there was currently bathing; Shawn Michaels.

The Heartbreak Kid ran his hands over his hair, getting any remaining shampoo out of his blonde locks. Sighing thoughtfully to himself, he rubbed his tired face, closing his eyes as he pointed his frame towards the sun, leaning back against the embankment.

As the sun shone beautifully over his damp, well toned, tanned body, the King of Kings sneered at the sight. Trudging noisily over to the washing site, he snorted once he'd reached it, making the Icon open his eyes and look towards him. Turning away from him, Shawn knew what he had to do; be civil.

"Good morning." he spoke, an emotionless tone setting over his vocals.

"Is it?" Hunter mumbled, removing his night shirt.

"I dunno," Shawn replied "You tell me."

"In that case, it's a shit day." Hunter growled in a low pitch, his eyes locking with HBK's as he looked down at his trousers.

"Go ahead, I'm not gonna peek." Shawn assured. "I've seen it all before though."

Triple H never responded. Removing his pants, he covered up his private regions, getting in the water, sitting the opposite side to his 'best friend'. Taking his shampoo, the King of Kings ignored the Showstoppa' as if he wasn't even there, damping his hair to carry on his days business.

"Huh, I'm out of here." Shawn muttered, grabbing his towel as he got up.

"Bye then." Hunter sneered, annoyed to be left on his own.

"You weren't gonna speak to me anyway!" the Heartbreak Kid gasped.

"How do you know?" Hunter retaliated, sitting up more so.

"Because that's what happens when you get in one of your moods."

Triple H was pissed off now; "What moods?" he demanded an answer.

"The kind of moods where you sit there, winding yourself up even more before yelling at someone. I'm not waiting around for you to decide whether you want to speak to me or not." Shawn told, grabbing his clothes as he turned around for any means of privacy.

"Fuckwit." the Cerebral Assassin rumbled.

"You know what, Triple H," Shawn began, spinning himself back to face his supposed D Generation X team mate. "I honestly thought we had grown out of that stage; the stage where we would stand there, muttering obscenities at each other before getting in a scrap over it." Shawn admitted. "But then again, they'll always be apart of us that crave for them moments; the moments to just throw everything back in each other's faces because we've become so accustomed to it, because we think no differently."

As Shawn's words hit the air, Hunter's face continued to screw up, the words hitting him; hard.

"I knew, in my heart of hearts this whole DX thing would just be a lie."

"How's it a lie, huh?" the Game asked in frustration.

"We can't relive the glory days. We aren't sophomores anymore. We have wives, children, responsibilities..."

"Huh, all about being the good Christian and family man with you, isn't it?" Triple H roared. "That's why you came asking me for help, huh? It is?" the King of Kings cried "Because you wanted to relive the 'glory days'. You needed me to help beat McMahon at his own game."

"Maybe, just maybe I was wrong." Shawn exhaled deeply. "We'll never get back to how we were. Have a nice life!" he concluded, shoving his stuff in his arms.

As he began to walk away, he heard a voice call his name. "Oh and by the way, Michaels?" the Cerebral Assassin spoke, his voice patronising and deep. "Break a leg today, in fact, break both of them." he snarled sadistically, dunking his head under the water as he continued his washing regime, the Heartbreak Kid walking away; heart broken.

- - - - - - - - - -

By the time Triple H returned to the camp site, the other wrestlers had finished breakfast and were now arranging their belongings for the cut-throat competition that would start shortly.

"I've saved you some." enforcer Diamond Dallas Page cheered, Hunter rejecting his offer in no uncertain terms.

Meanwhile, Shawn was sat in his tent praying to the Lord above; a ritual that he participated in daily, especially in times of trouble.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm not interrupting you, am I?" the Pittsburgh native spoke.

"No, come in Kurt," Shawn replied with a sigh. "I was just finishing up anyway."

"Coach has told us to take this down coz we'll be setting off in about half an hour." the Wrestling Machine recalled, patting the side of the tent, surveying Shawn's face in great detail. "Are you ok?" he inquired sincerely.

"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about it."

"Are you sure, coz you don't..."

"I said I'm fine, thanks." Shawn replied through gritted teeth. He really, really didn't want to fall out with his team mate and good friend. Not at this point in time.

- - - - - - - - - -

About half an hour later, the two teams were assembled ready to begin the expedition.

The two team captains stood dead in their tracks. 'It shouldn't be like this.' Shawn mused forlornly to himself, pushing his hair back into a pony tail as the Coach began to speak.

"Right, before you begin, I want to make a few of Mr. McMahon's rules clear." Jonathan began, taking the scroll of paper from his pocket, clearing his throat to begin as the wrestlers, Hogan and Foley grumbled amongst themselves. "You cannot under any circumstance confer with the other team as to where you are going."

"We probably wouldn't want to anyway." Hunter moaned to his team.

Coachman spied the Game as a signal to be quiet. "Also, no cheating like stealing each other's maps of belongings..."

"Yeah, 'Carlito'!" Randy mimicked in a very immature fashion.

"Hey, are you thinking Carlito is the only cheater here?" Mr. Cool began to ramble. "Coz he's not...But I'm the coolest cheater!" he grinned in his trade mark fashion.

"If you come near our stuff again, they'll be CONCEQUENCES!" Flair yelled at the top of his voice, elbow dropping the map he once held in his hands.

"Don't worry, they won't." Coach winked to the Nature Boy. "Ok, has anyone got any questions?"

"Yes, this is only meant to take about five hours, yes?" Kurt piped up.

"Well, it should do," Coachman shrugged. "It all depends on your team."

"Ha, it'll take their team five hours just to figure out which way is North!" Foley mocked.

"Right, off you go then!" Diamond Dallas Page smiled broadly. "Have fun!"

As the campers mumbled incoherently to each other, the team captains took one final look at each other; they had a strange feeling about this journey in the pits of their stomachs.

"Right, who's got the map?" Shawn finally said, breaking free from the trance.

"BROTHER?" Hogan searched his pockets, the captain losing his cool already.

"If you've lost it..." the Olympic Medallist glared, stomping the ground.

"HA HA, JUST FOOLING WITH YA...BROTHERS!" The Hulkster posed to the camera man.

"Dat...dat was more than not cool!" Carlito rolled his eyes.

"Let's get going." the Showstoppa' decided, leading his team down their route much like Hunter was with his team.

But which team would triumph? Would _any_ team triumph?

- - - - - - - - - -

Next time in 'Good Intentions?'...

How do the teams get on in the hiking trip? Is disaster about to strike?

Check back for more, soon!


	14. Chapter 14: Nerves and panic!

At first, the hiking trip was as easy as pie for both teams. Hour number one had been quite successful with both Triple H's and Shawn Michaels' groups getting over a quarter of the distance done.

However, sure enough, especially when Vince McMahon is concerned, nothing is as it seems...

"Great, a river." Carlito grumbled, the team stopping dead in their tracks.

Since Hunter had taken the plank of wood back, the Heartbreak Kid's group inspected their possession to try and figure out if any of it could be of use.

"Ok, so, we have a couple of paddles?" Shawn shrugged, less than amused at the items of 'choice'.

"YA KNOW SOMETHIN' BROTHER," the Hulkster began "THERE'S NO WAY MY MUSCULAR BODY COULD GET ACROSS THAT RIVER ON ONE OF THEM THINGS...BROTHER!" he concluded, the MTV camera crew in awe of the idiot.

"No one's asking you to, Hulk," the Icon reasoned, "We just need to think of a logical way in which to do this."

After a few moments of quiet thinking time, the camera man turned off his equipment to stop recording. Reaching to the Hulksters ear, he whispered words of advice in his ear.

"PARDON...BROTHER?"

After finally making contact, he turned the camcorder back on, making it appear that Hogan was the only one with any sort of idea...

"HOW ABOUT WE SWIM ACROSS...BROTHERS?"

"Are you kidding me?" Carlito cried "It's freezing!"

"True, but we'll soon dry off." Shawn responded. "And it would be cool!" he joked, trying to ease the atmosphere a little. "Good job, Hulk."

"No, we can't!" Mr. Cool stammered, the group turning to face him.

"And why not?" Kurt questioned.

"Because...we'll get dirty, that's no cool, right?" Carlito hid his anxieties, tossing an apple nervously into the air.

"Clothes will wash." Shawn shook his head. "Besides, it's not too far, probably only sixty meters."

"NO!" Carlito demanded.

"What the hell's up with you?" Kurt patted Carlito's shoulder.

"Carlito...well, Carlito can't swim, all right?" he admitted, bowing his head in shame, hugging the apple closer to his chest.

"BROTHER!"

"It's ok, Carlito," Shawn comforted. "We'll find a way..."

Kurt was stood nearer the river, not paying too much attention to what was going on with the rest of his team. Suddenly, he made a 'shocking' discovery...

"Ummm, guys?" he spoke. "This water mustn't be deeper than two feet...we can walk across!"

Giving out a sigh of relief, Shawn's team continued on their trek, unaware of what would occur soon enough...

- - - - - - - - - -

Meanwhile, Diamond Dallas Page and the Coach had arrived at the hut that the groups would meet up with them in.

"That wasn't too bad!" DDP cheered, hanging his rain coat up on one of the hooks provided.

"Maybe for you it wasn't." Coachman screeched. "You were safe on that damn quad bike - I wasn't!"

"You were ok." the King of Badda Bing turned to face the other man.

"Until I fell off into the _mud_ I was ok." Vince's special assistant replied, clenching his fists through gritted teeth.

"Oh, don't worry, the mud will come off!" DDP announced. "Do you want me to help you clean it off?"

Coachman jumped to his feet in an uneasy fashion. "You...you did this!" he cried, wrapping his arms tighter around his body.

"How did I do this, buddy?" Mr. Page smiled brightly.

"You...you and your 'karma'." Coach stammered.

Realising what he had just said, the Coach scampered off into the bathroom, slamming the door firmly shut behind him.

- - - - - - - - - -

Elsewhere, Triple H's team was so far unaware that they were in fact winning the contest. As Hunter surveyed the map in his hands, Ric Flair and Mick Foley caught up with himself and Randy Orton.

"C'mon!" Hunter shouted. "Your cardio should be better than that!"

"Well...it...isn't!" the Nature Boy puffed, leaning up against a tree for support.

"I would...I would...have...been...here quicker." the Hardcore Legend spoke. "But the Nature Granddad...was...keeping...me...behind!"

"No...I...wasn't!" Ric disagreed fully, unwilling to appear weak. "You fat BASTARD!"

"Ok, ok." the Game raised his voice, trying to calm the situation. "You can take a break for five minutes." he reluctantly agreed, the two older men slumping their bodies on the ground.

As they caught a breath, there was a loud thud coming from the sky. As the four men looked up, clouds were darkened and the wind became frightfully cooler.

"There's gonna be a thunder storm." the King of Kings guessed. "Ok, get your raincoats from your bags everyone." he guided, being the first person to do so.

As Foley and Flair followed their team captains instructions, the Legend Killer rolled his eyes to inspect the surroundings. Hastily delving in his bag, he darted to another area of where the rest of his group were stopping for their rest. Finding shelter underneath the trees, the other members of the team searched for Randy.

"What are you doing under there?" Hunter questioned in an annoyed tone of voice, pushing back some of the trees branches and leaves to inspect the third generation superstar.

"H-Hiding." Orton gulped, scrunching himself into a tighter ball, grasping the object tighter in his arms.

"Hiding? What from?" the Cerebral Assassin demanded.

"The, uh, the ummm..."

"Spit it out boy!" Hunter ordered angrily. "I haven't got all day!"

"The...thunder...I'm hiding from the thunder." he announced timidly.

Exhaling deeply, Triple H rubbed his face, trying to make sense of the situation and Randy. "Why are you hiding from the thunder?"

"Coz...I don't like it, ok?" Randy tearfully stammered.

"Bullshit, Orton!" Hunter yelled in exasperation. "I've been on car trips with you and you never once complained about the thunder! We stayed in that creepy house a few months back and the thunder never once did this to you!"

"Thi-this is different!"

"How?"

"It's...outside." he whimpered, pulling his knackered teddy bear closer to his face, digging his head into the soft, comforting fabric that reminded him of home; warmth and security.

Snarling, Triple H had a few words of advice for the youngest member of his group. "GET UP AND STOP ACTING LIKE A PUSSY!" he demanded fiercely, Randy not even being able to make eye contact with the Game.

Suddenly, a panting Kurt Angle came tearing over to the group.

"Kurt?" Mick whispered questionably.

"What are you doing here, Angle?" Hunter growled like the weather.

"Hunter, I need you help." the Olympic Gold Medallist spoke, concern over shadowing his vocals.

But what has happened?

- - - - - - - - - -

Next time in 'Good Intentions?'...

What has happened? Will Hunter go and help Kurt?

Check back for more, soon!

- - - - - - - - - -

Hi guys, thanks once again for reading and I hope you'll take time to review! Thank you to everyone who is doing so far!

Thanks for the great comments BADFELLAS INC. I couldn't get back to you coz my emails been a little dodgy! And to abi, hope you liked this chapter too!


	15. Chapter 15: You're like brothers

"Help? Huh, why would _you_ need _my_ help?" Triple H sneered at the Wrestling Machine.

"Well, it's not so much me that needs your help." Kurt replied.

"Well, if it's anyone from your team, I'm not interested!" the Game huffed, doing the zipper up on his rain coat.

"Hunter!" Kurt demanded; his stern tone making Hunter jerk his head up slightly. "Please just listen to me." he continued to implore, examining the King of Kings face.

"Give me one good reason..."

"It's Shawn." the Olympic Gold Medallist interrupted abruptly.

"I said a good reason." Hunter growled heartlessly, turning away from all people present.

"Trips, that's your best friend." Ric muttered in disgust.

"At least hear the man out." Foley agreed.

- - - - - - - - - -

_Flashback: Half an hour ago._

_Shawn's team were trudging monotonously amongst leaves, mud and grass, quite evidently lost. Inspecting the map, the Heartbreak Kid sighed with a little frustration, not knowing what to do next._

_"We're lost..." he announced a few minutes later, biting his bottom lip in hope of inspiration._

_"We can't be," Carlito muttered in disagreement, "We've been following the instructions to perfection!"_

_"WELL IT'S NOT MY FAULT, BROTHER, COZ I HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING, BROTHER, OTHER THAN STAND HERE AND POSE FOR MY HULKAMANIACS ON MTV...BROTHER!"_

_"Yeah, it won't be your fault if you stand there and do fuck all." Mr. Cool mumbled, quickly becoming heated as he is about to pounce with the apple that was dancing from hand to hand._

_"Ok, children, look lets just carry on in this direction, hopefully the map and us will get on the same page again soon enough." Shawn spoke logically, leading his men off further into the woods._

_Strolling along, the Icon paid little attention to the path before him; he was too engrossed in the map and surroundings ahead of him._

_Suddenly, he fell to the ground, screaming in agony._

_Racing over, Kurt and Carlito tried to help him to his feet but with little success._

_"No...I can't move my ankle!" HBK cried, the two men peering at each other in concern as Shawn clutched his leg in anguish, trying his best not to move his leg into a more painful position._

_"Don't move, I'll go get help!" Kurt called, tapping Shawn on the shoulder as a sign of comfort before he scampered away from the scene in search of assistance._

_He knew, no matter how much he's probably regret it, there was only one person that Kurt Angle could get at a time like this... _

_End of Flashback._

- - - - - - - - - -

"We can't move him." Kurt concluded, recalling the tale as hastily as he could.

"So, what do you expect me to do about it?" Triple H shrugged very matter of factly.

The Wrestling Machine could tell that Hunter was in fact deeply concerned; his expression had changed from that of anger to apprehension in a matter of seconds. His eyes told a different story from his words.

"For God's sake, he's your best friend!" the Nature Boy repeated in shock.

"I still don't know why you're asking me to go with you..." the Game trailed off, trying to hide his concern, looking to his curled up hands.

Abruptly, Kurt slapped him across the face, knocking the taste right out of his mouth. "Look, I know over the past few days you and Shawn haven't been getting along too well," Kurt got closer to the King of King's face, his voice lowered. "But you two are like...are like brothers. Wouldn't you want him there if you were hurt?" Kurt reasoned in the most delicate of ways.

Hunter stood still for a moment, his world in a daze. Rubbing the rough stubble on his face, he knew that Kurt was beyond correct. Spying the rest of his group, they looked at him in expectation, waiting for their instructions. "I'm going to go. Tell the Coach and DDP to get help for Shawn." he ordered, grabbing his rucksack in acceleration.

"But," Randy chimed in timidly, making his way out of the bushes, his knackered teddy bear still clutched lovingly to his firm chest. "The Coach told us that the two teams couldn't cross paths..."

"Screw the Coach!" Hunter roared, him and Kurt racing back to get an update on the Heartbreak Kid's condition.

- - - - - - - - - -

Meanwhile, back with Shawn's group, the Showstoppa' was still laying on the ground, his ankle throbbing greatly. Carlito was trying to console him the best he could, but the truth was, he just didn't know what to do.

Never had Mr. Cool been in such a situation before. Pacing backwards and forwards, he was trying to figure out if there was any way to help his team captain.

"Can you take your boot off?" he asked.

"I...I could try." Shawn stuttered, bending his body forward to reach his left food. Untying the thick, brown laces, he felt his ankle ease off a little now there was a tiny bit more space for the swelling to expand to. Getting the boot off was a different matter all together though...

"Nope...it won't budge." Shawn spoke, anguish controlling every fibre in his body.

"LEMME TRY...BROTHER!" Hogan yelled, wrecking silence as he bounded over to the Heartbreak Kid.

"No...please, leave it, Hulk!" Shawn demanded.

Unfortunately for the Icon, in his old age, the Hulkster is more than a little bit hard of hearing. Yanking at the muddy boot, Hogan tugged and tugged at Shawn's foot, the Showstoppa' shrieking in distress.

"What the hell are you doing?" Carlito pulled Hogan away. "What are you...stupid?"

"Yes." the Cameraman muttered under his breath, low enough for Hogan not to hear.

"You could have really done more damage!" Carlito shouted in exasperation, pushing Hogan away.

"YA KNOW SOMETHING BROTHER? I WOULDN'T BE STUPID ENOUGH TO BREAK MY ANKLE LIKE THAT ANYWAY...BROTHER!"

"No, you just tear your meniscus getting off a couch!" Carlito retaliated. "Dat...dat's not cool!"

Thankfully, before things got too heated, Kurt returned with his helper.

"Hey guys." he called from a distance. "How are you doing, Shawn?" he asked, crouching down to relieve the Heartbreak Kid.

"I just need to get out of here." Shawn exhaled deeply, closing his eyes firmly shut in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

"Well, uh, there is someone who wants to see you." the Olympic Gold Medallist responded, gesturing for the Cerebral Assassin to make his presence known.

But will Shawn like and appreciate his guest?

- - - - - - - - - -

Next time in 'Good Intentions?'...

Do Shawn and Hunter bury the hatchet? Do Randy, Mick and Ric persuade the Coach that Shawn needs help?

Check back for more, soon!


	16. Chapter 16: What are you hiding?

Glaring at each other, the leaders of D Generation X looked away quickly, neither man knowing what to say. Kurt sensed that himself, Carlito and Hogan were in the way some what.

"We'll go and see if we can get to Coach and DDP quicker." Kurt decided, gesturing for the his other two team mates to follow him, smiling lightly to the Heartbreak Kid.

The Icon still sat on the floor, grasping his foot and trying to relieve the pain anyway possible. Digging his hands deep into his pockets, Triple H cleared his throat.

"When I said break both of your legs, you know, I wasn't being serious." he semi laughed, trying to enlighten the mood.

"I wouldn't have put it past you if you were being serious." Shawn grimaced, unconvinced by the Games words.

"Shawn," Hunter began, the Heartbreak Kid spying him from the corner of his eyes. "Stop being so stubborn."

"Me? Being stubborn? The last time I checked, it was the other way around!" Shawn exclaimed, retaliating in an aggressive matter.

The King of Kings rubbed his face, moving his jaw about slightly; Kurt really _had_ slapped him hard! Crouching down near Shawn, he knew that the only way to settle their difference would be to talk them out rather than snipe at each other at every chance they both had. Sighing, he knew it could take some time.

"Look," Hunter started, pushing his hair away from his face. "I don't know what happened between us..."

"You could start by telling me why you called me a wet blanket, that I was an ass kisser, oh and that I was just a weak link?"

"What?" Hunter gasped. "I never said that about you! But you said that I was only interested in myself and that D Generation X was more about me than you."

"What?" Shawn questioned. "I never said that! Who told you that?"

The penny dropped for both men. Turning away from each other, their heads slowly lifted, their eyes locking. "Coachman." they snarled in unison.

Shawn's eyes were wide and angered. "Wait until I get my hands on the little..."

"Hey, you can't do that!" the Game's voice raised. "You're crippled." he joked, smiling to the Showstoppa' who still looked to be in agony.

"We should have never listened to Coach." Hunter added, trying to keep HBK's mind away from his injury.

"I know. Or Randy." Shawn mumbled, stroking his temples.

"Randy?" the King of King's voice turned unsteady. "What did Randy have to do with it?"

"He confirmed everything the Coach said." Shawn spoke, in melancholy.

"I know...I knew you were speaking to him. I saw you two...when you were washing the other day."

The scene turned silence. Neither man could believe how untrusting they had been of each other. Both scratching their heads, waiting for the other one to speak.

"Why did we listen to them?" Shawn quizzed, massaging a hand over his tired face.

"I really don't know..." Hunter sighed, swallowing his pride. "I'm sorry. _Really_ sorry."

"Me too." Shawn replied, holding out his hand. "Friends?"

"More than that!" Hunter decided, pulling Shawn in for a hug as the two men embraced properly for the first time in days.

As the two men released the other from their grasp, rain started beating down on the two men. The thunder storm had returned, much to their annoyance.

Shawn was still in discomfort; Hunter recognised this from the look on his face. "Do you need anything?"

"A doctor." Shawn smiled gently, trying to move his body to a more comfortable positive.

"Let me go and find somewhere for shelter then I'll help you." Hunter told standing to his feet to leave.

Shawn grabbed Hunter's wrist, unwilling to be left on his own. "Please don't." Shawn pleaded, his lips pouting.

"Don't worry - I won't." Hunter agreed, returning to sit next to his best friend, searching to find his hand for comfort.

- - - - - - - - - -

Meanwhile, Kurt, Carlito and Hogan had finally come across the hut in which Diamond Dallas Page and the Coach were in. They hadn't managed to bump into the remainder of the Games team so they only assumed that they were either inside or lost.

Standing on the front door step, Hogan posed for the camera man, puckering his lips up and bulking his muscles.

"Hogan?" Kurt spoke, irritation clouding his voice.

"WHAT IS IT, BROTHER, CAN'T YOU SEE I'M BUSY?"

"You call that busy?" Carlito chocked back laughter. "It looks more like you are having a spasm!"

"Out of the way...we need to get help for Shawn!" the Olympic Gold Medallist pushed him aside, the door slamming back, making the five men in the hut jump.

Inside, the Coach and Randy Orton were involved in a heated argument, the King of Badda Bing attempting desperately to break them up.

At the table sat Mick Foley and Ric Flair, casually sipping a hot drink while playing scrabble.

"What's going on?" Kurt inquired, quietly tottering over to speak to the Nature Boy and Hardcore Legend.

"I'm proving to that BASTARD Foley that I have a better vocabulary than him..." Ric responded, sweat trickling from his greying brow.

"Shhh...it's my go!" Mick implored. "If I win, I get his pay check from Hogan Knows Best!"

Rolling his eyes, the cool one was about to become very hot headed. "No, idiots, he meant with Coachman and Orton!" Carlito shook his head in disbelief.

"Oh, I dunno, we are ignoring them." Mick shrugged, trying desperately to come up with a word to astound his opponent with.

"HE NEEDS HELP!" Randy yelled in irritation, flinging his arms in the air as the Coach striked back.

"You don't know that!" Coachman's eyes widened in anger.

"How can you play Scrabble at a time like this?" Kurt questioned, his eyes wondering.

"Easy...there's money riding on it!" Mick tittered, his master plan beginning to fall into place.

"What seems to be the problem?" Carlito quizzed coolly, knowing that losing his temper would do nothing for the situation.

"Ok...you tell Coach that Shawn needs help, you were there when he broke his leg!" Randy encouraged.

"You said ankle a minute ago." Jonathan recalled, folding his arms over his chest, realising that he might be smelling a rat.

"Whatever!" Randy spat, his hand clasping his forehead. "Look, all I know is what Kurt told me when he went to find Hunter and..."

"You went to find...Triple H?" Coachman gulped, the reality of his botched plan setting in.

"Yes. I'm sorry, I know I wasn't meant to..." Kurt apologised.

"YOU IDIOT!" the Coach screamed. "YOU'VE RUINED _EVERYTHING_! ALL OF YOU!"

Breaking away from their game of scrabble, both Flair and Foley glanced at the group questionably.

"What do you mean?" the Wrestling Machine raised an eyebrow, his voice curious and shallow.

- - - - - - - - - -

In the next chapter of 'Good Intentions?'...

What is the Coachman to say to the four wrestlers, Hogan and Foley? Will Shawn and Hunter get the help they so desperately need?

Check back for more, soon!


	17. Chapter 17: The heartless and money mad

As the night began to set in, Shawn and Hunter were becoming increasingly concerned about their situation. They both expected at least a few members of either group to be back here by now, at least for a news update.

"This is ridiculous!" Triple H muttered, his eyes drooping as he stood to his feet.

"You don't think we are...lost, do you?" Shawn asked, his tone timid and unsure.

"We can't be lost," the Game reasoned. "We haven't gone anywhere, _to_ get lost!"

"Oh, yeah." Shawn semi laughed. His ankle was still throbbing and he didn't know how to make it more comfortable.

"Have you tried getting up and walking about?" the Cerebral Assassin advised, knowing that Shawn couldn't just sit there all evening if he had to.

"I could try but...I think I need crutches." the Icon decided after a few moments of trying.

Searching the surrounding area, as the night sky swooped in, darkness covered the scenery making it difficult for anyone to see or be able to get anywhere or to see anything available to them.

"Pass me your torch." the King of Kings implored, reaching out to the Heartbreak Kid.

"Be careful.." Shawn warned. "We don't need both of us injured!"

- - - - - - - - - -

Meanwhile, back in the hut...

Kurt Angle, Carlito, Randy Orton, Diamond Dallas Page, Ric Flair, Mick Foley and Hulk Hogan were all stood impatiently waiting for an explanation from the Coachman. Gulping, Vince's special assistant knew that there was no point in hiding or denying the plot any longer.

"Ok, you really want to know the truth?"

"YES!" the wrestlers, Foley and Hulk yelled in unison, their arms crossed over their man breasts, I mean, chests, waiting for the story to unfold.

"Well, it's like this..." Jonathan began, exhaling deeply. "Mr. McMahon has had it up to here with the D Generation X antics," he revealed, rubbing the skin underneath his nose. "he was sick and tired of being abused week in, week out by his, well, own employees, especially his daughter's husband."

"That's all very well and good but, what has that got to do with us?" Carlito quizzed, pointing to the group of men.

"Ha, I'm glad you asked that!" the Coach wheezed searching for the right words to express himself with. "Vin...Mr. McMahon wanted, ummm, challenges for DX, so..."

"He called us all out to do his dirty work for him?" the Hardcore 'Legend' finished the explainers answer.

"Well, you could say it like that, yes, but..."

"But what?" the Olympic Gold Medallist inquired, wanting to get the whole story straight.

"It's not like that!" Coach added, trying to protect himself. "We just needed to...to..."

"Split DX up so that the two would hate each other more than McMahon." Randy explained to the rest of the group, the Coach signalling to him to shut up.

"You knew?" the Nature Boy cried.

"Yes." he warily spoke. "But, I was being selfish and I'm sorry."

"You stupid son of a bitch!" Kurt muttered, his lips curling in anger.

"You don't understand." the Legend Killer shook his head in denial, making his way closer to Kurt's face. "I _had_ to do it."

"What do you mean you _had_ to do it?" the Wrestling Machine hollered.

"Yes, they made me an offer I couldn't refuse." Randy looked to his shoes, digging his hands deep into his pockets.

"What, a check for thousands of dollars?" DDP queried.

"Yes, in fact, it was." the third generation superstar exposed.

"How come no one told me about it?" Foley roared. "I would have done it!"

"Plus, what bigger legend was there to kill that the legend of possibly the greatest faction ever to exist...D Generation X?" Randy grinned cockily, raising his arms into the air.

"You bastard!" Kurt snarled, his face closer to Orton's. "You realise that this isn't a game?"

"IT ISN'T?" Hogan shouted.

"No." Kurt shook his head, glancing at the Hulkster. "This is life. You do know that there's a man out there in great pain because of you...you spineless pissant!"

"Hey...relax, man, I _am_ truly sorry. I never knew it would get to this level, ok?" Randy sincerely spoke, Kurt's face becoming less red.

"He's right," The Coachman piped up. "I never told him that the idea was to send Shawn's team on a dangerous trail in the hope that he would injure himself. We needed a plan B; if the Heartbreak Kid, _couldn't_ show up to Raw, that would be one less person to deal with...Plan A, which was to get them arguing and against each other, well, it worked. It made separating them in this part so much easier."

"You make me sick!" Kurt growled, his fists clenched as he marched his way over to Jonathan. "You **wanted **someone to get hurt? What kind of person are you, huh?"

"Look," Diamond Dallas Page finally stepped in. "This fighting is getting us nowhere. No matter what, at the minute, we need to focus all of our attention, all of our energy on helping Shawn, ok?" he concluded logically, the men all mumbling in agreeance.

"So, how are we going to help him?" Randy questioned, stroking the back of his neck in embarrassment for his actions.

"Don't you think it's a bit late to start showing concern now?" Kurt bellowed, his anger still welling up inside him. He couldn't imagine another man feeling so strongly as to try and wreck a great friendship between two people.

"Easy Kurt." Carlito encouraged, standing between the Olympic Gold Medallist and the Legend Killer.

"We need a way to get Shawn out of the campsite, without moving him too much." The Nature Boy offered.

"That doesn't cost too much money!" Mick Foley stated, rocking backwards and forwards in his chair, checking for his payment.

"The question is, how?" Diamond Dallas Page mused out loud, the rest of the gang doing the same thing.

"I've got it!" the Wrestling Machine exclaimed a couple of moments later, the campers all ears.

- - - - - - - - - -

Elsewhere, Shawn and Hunter were still sat in the pouring rain. The make shift crutches that Triple H had acquired were some use but couldn't be used rigorously.

Wrapping his arms around his well structured body, Shawn began to shiver to himself. The night was turning chilly, and the wind still whistling as the two men sat beneath the stars with nothing or no one for comfort other than each other.

"Are you ok?" the Game asked; he was beginning to feel the cold too.

"Yeah...it's freezing!" he chattered, noticing the King of Kings stand to his feet.

Digging amongst his belongings in the oversize rucksack, Hunter pulled out the tent him and Randy had been sharing for the past few evenings.

"Hey, it's better than nothing." he shrugged, unrolling it. "Do you think you can help me? Even if it's just pushing the pegs into the ground, it would be better than nothing." the Cerebral Assassin asked coyly, knowing that the Heartbreak Kid's ankle was still torturing him.

"Sure." the Icon nodded. "I don't think we'll be going anywhere for the time being anyway." he continued, twisting his leg in an attempt to move his body to a better position.

- - - - - - - - - -

Back in the hut, Diamond Dallas Page was still on the phone to a local rescue team. Sighing, he put the receiver down, feeling like the last twenty minute conversation had been a waste of time.

"Ok, here's the scoop." he began, spiking his short, dyed blonde hair up a little. "There's good news and bad news. The good news is, they _will_ come and help us."

"So, what's the bad news?" Carlito questioned impatiently.

"The bad news is that they don't know when." DDP completed, sighing for the first time in annoyance.

"What do you mean, they don't know when?" Kurt gulped in a mixture of rage and concern.

"Because it's night time and the weather's bad, it isn't safe for them. They said that they will be definitely be picking them up by the end of tomorrow." the King of Badda Bing replied in defeat, taking a seat next to the Hardcore Legend.

"So, that's it is it? We just wait here until we next hear any news?" Kurt questioned in fury.

"Yes, I'm afraid so." the uncharacteristically saddened DDP exhaled deeply, shaking his head.

"Not if I have anything to do with it!" Kurt scorned, collecting his belongings.

But what will he do?

- - - - - - - - - -

In the next and final chapter of 'Good Intentions?'...

Will D Generation X get out of the woods ok? Will Shawn's injury heal?

Check back for more, soon!


	18. Chapter 18: We've got two words for ya!

"Kurt, Kurt what are you doing, man?" Diamond Dallas Page questioned, leaping from his seat, clutching at one of the Olympic Gold Medallist arms.

"I'm going to find them." he responded, pushing DDP's hands away, tying the rucksack to his back.

"You can't do that!" the Coach cried, knowing well enough that if Kurt went to help D Generation X, his plans would be completely ruined.

"Try and stop me." Kurt scowled, his eyes narrowing at Jonathans.

Heading towards the door, a voice called out behind him. "Wait up!" Turning around, Kurt raised his eye brows, a question present on his face.

"Why the frickin' hell should I do that?" the Wrestling Machine scorned, zipping his coat up as his eyes locked with the other blue pair directly in front of him.

"I feel bad," he replied timidly. "I want to make sure Shawn's ok."

"It's a bit late for that, Orton." Kurt snipped, slamming the door behind him as the other campers were left to figure out what was going on.

Randy wasn't going to take no for an answer. Grabbing his luggage, he pulled his coat on as hastily as he could, darting out of the door to catch up with the Pittsburgh native.

"Please, Kurt!" Randy begged, finally catching up with the other man. "I know I've been stupid and selfish and so much more but please, let me come with you. I never knew that Shawn would get hurt and I'm really sorry that he has. Just let me come with you?"

The Wrestling Machine spied the man in front of him. He couldn't believe that the Legend Killer was being so weak and in front of _him_. However, Angle rightfully suspected that there was more to his pleas than met the eye.

"Ok but, before we go any further, tell me your real intentions." Kurt sternly spoke.

"I have done; I want to make sure that Shawn's ok." the Legend Killer replied innocently, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

However, Kurt had seen that look of mischief on the young Orton's face before. He knew that he was hiding something. "Randy?" he lowered his voice, folding his arms in front of him.

"Fine." Randy sighed thoughtfully, wanting the ground to swallow him whole right about now. "I want to see Hunter, ok?"

"Hunter? What has he got to do with this other than being with HBK?" Kurt asked curiously.

"You don't understand, man." Randy shook his head, beginning to stroll away from the Olympic Gold Medallist.

"Oh no, you're telling me _exactly_ what is going on!" Kurt pulled the young man back, awaiting his answer.

- - - - - - - - - -

Crawling inside the now erect tent, the Icon laid dozily on his sleeping bag, his eyes only slightly open. He was getting more and more tired and knew that all he wanted at this precise moment was _his_ home and _his_ bed.

"Shawn, buddy." Hunter whispered, feeling a little alone. "Are you sure there is nothing you need?"

"No thanks." The Showstoppa' answered, wrapping the bedding around his cold body, the Game mimicking his actions.

DX knew that there was nothing more they could do than wait for help. Both of them were fed up with hanging around but what other choice did they have?

- - - - - - - - - -

"So, the only reason you are _really_ following me like a lost puppy is because you are infatuated with Hunter?" Kurt clarified, rolling his eyes; he knew there was more than Orton was letting on.

"No, not that!" Randy caught up with him. "I just...like him. I need to check to see if Shawn's ok. I need to check that he will get better."

"Listen 'Randy'," Kurt glared, turning to face the third generation superstar. "I don't like you. I never liked you before but you have really pushed me to my limits." he honestly told, pointing aggressively at the younger man. "I knew you could stoop low but to be apart of a plan with the McMahon's and the Coach? Huh, give me a break!"

"I know, you have every reason to be mad at me," the Legend Killer spoke timidly. "But I want to put everything right. Please?"

Kurt paused. It was all down to him. Did he even want Orton near him? "Fine, but you listen and listen good." he snarled, demanding the third generation star's attention. "You follow me and only speak to me if I speak to you, got it?"

"Yes." Randy responded, as if he was talking to a teacher at school.

"Good." Angle nooded, beginning their journey. "Don't push me or I'll push you back twice as hard." Kurt promised in enragement, the men walking on to find Triple H and Shawn Michaels.

- - - - - - - - - -

Back at the hut, the superstars were left to deal with their own thoughts. They knew that there was nothing more they could possibly do at this moment in time so decided just to take the time to chill out.

As thoughts of money still dashed through his scarred head, Foley was still hell bent on beating his arch enemy, Ric Flair, at the only game he knew he could; Scrabble!

Joining them now were Carlito and the Hulkster. The four men sat around the table, all of them except Mr. Cool with their minds on one thing and one thing only; the prize money.

"Diamond, are you sure you don't wanna play instead of me?" Carlito quizzed. He was just getting fed up with the three other men; their sarcastic comments, their smug faces and their money obsessions.

"No, sorry son I'm not a gambling man!" DDP grinned cheerily, Carlito shuddering at the mere look on his face.

Suddenly, the phone began to ring. Being the person stood next to it, the Coach lifted the receiver to his ear, shocked to discover just who it was.

"Mr. McMahon!" he exclaimed in surprise. "What are you ringing me for at this unearthly hour?" It was now 4am.

"Coachman, what's this crap I hear about Shawn Michaels being injured and needing transport out of the woods?"

"Apparently, sir, he's badly hurt his ankle. Kurt said that he can't even move it for the pain."

"So he thinks he can get out of it that easily, huh?" Vince rubbed his chin, musing aloud to himself. "Where is he?"

"He's with Triple H in the deeps of the wood." the Coach told. "Kurt and Randy have gone to find them..."

"Triple H is with them? What about Randy, what happened to him, I thought he was the influential part of our plan?" the McMahon hastened an answer.

"Yeah, well, DX _did_ fall out but have since made up," Coach gulped, hearing Vince's heavy breathing down the other end of the line. "Randy...he felt guilty about Shawn being hurt. He followed Kurt out of the door. We don't know where they are..."

"NOOOOO!" the older man cried, his deepest fears alive once again.

- - - - - - - - - -

After taking a few wrong turns, Kurt managed to lead Randy back to the area in which Shawn and Triple H would be. Seeing the tent all set up, the Olympic Medallist unzipped it, seeing them sleeping peacefully inside.

"You wait here and don't move a muscle." he firmly instructed Randy, hopping inside the tent and zipping it up again. "Hey guys." he whispered. "How ya doing?"

"We are ok." Hunter roused up. "You?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." he nodded, helping Shawn sit up. "Listen, keep very quiet. You should be out of here in the next few hours." he revealed.

"Great, thanks Kurt." Shawn acknowledged.

"No problem." he muttered, unzipping the tent. "Hunter, there's someone who wants to see you!" he called woodenly, inviting the Legend Killer into the miniscule tent.

"Hey, ummm, Trips, I mean, Triple H." Randy spoke coyly, his cheeks turning as red as a fire engine.

"Hi." the Game greeted half arsedly.

"Randy _really_ likes you!" the Wrestling Machine divulged.

"Does he?" the King of King's going along with Kurt's little gag, noticing the young Orton's face screw up in despair.

"Oh yeah, he likes you...a lot!"

Seething, Randy clenched his fists, resisting with all of his might to punch the Pittsburgh native. Abruptly, a loud engine could be heard over head. Helping Shawn up from his bag and giving him is crutches made from thin tree branches, each man grabbed their stuff, excited to see the helicopter approaching them.

"Wow, great service!" Randy smiled, trying to divert the conversation.

"Yeah, it is isn't it?" Shawn grinned, dropping his crutches like a bad habit, hopping onto the ladder that was being lowered to the ground for them to climb up.

"You...what?" Randy stuttered. "I thought you was hurt!"

"Oh I was...pretending to be hurt!" the Heartbreak Kid let slip, climbing quickly onto the ladder.

"You see Randy," Hunter began, his tone slightly arrogant. "When you are the greatest faction in history, you know how to fix things in your favour." he spoke, following Shawn up the ladder.

"And we knew how to sort things out in our favour!" the Olympic Gold Medallist added, stepping onto the helicopter, waving goodbye as the ladder was ravelled back into the aircraft.

"Ready guys?" the gruff, Texan spoke who was driving the helicopter, imploring all of the guys to put their safety equipment on before they got going.

"Yeah." they replied in unison.

Randy was irate. The whole thing was a...set up? "WHAT ABOUT ME?" he yelled at the top of his voice, the other three just snickering at the third generation wrestler.

"There's someone who would like to talk to you." the driver spoke, handing the walkie talkie to the back.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" their boss roared, his face reddened, annoyed and exasperated.

"We got a helicopter to get us all home!" the Game informed.

"I THOUGHT MICHAELS WAS INJURED?"

"Oh I was." the Showstoppa' smirked. "My ankle miraculously healed in time for me to get on here." he ironically enlightened, the three other men on the craft smiling to themselves in glee.

"WHAT THE FUCK? YOU BASTARDS! IF YOU SEE THE COACH BEFORE I DO, TELL HIM HIS FIRED!" the Chairman bellowed, the four men on board tittering.

"C'mon guys, we've got to go!" the Stone Cold pilot encouraged.

"Sorry, Vince, we have to go but before we do we have two words for you." Hunter gestured towards his friends, as the black, skull encrusted aircraft flew away to a more loved destination.

"SUCK IT!"

- - - - - - - - - -

Ok, so that is the end of 'Good Intentions?'. Thank you to everyone that has read and reviewed not only this story, but the other two as part of the trilogy; 'Honey We Are Marooned!' and 'Things That Go Bump In The Night!'.

If there is a story you would like me to write for you, just contact me and I'll see if I can work it out. I may restart work on 'New Sensation' which has been shamelessly left for a year. Other than that, I have a few one shots in mind but longer stories such as this one wouldn't be able to be updated as regularly as this one due to school and other commitments. I have had a glorious 11 week holiday to devote time to this, which I have really enjoyed!

Thanks once again. If you want to know anything else or just want to chat, personal message me and I'd love to get to talk to you!


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